New Shoes
by Super Chocolate Bear
Summary: When Batgirl disappears, Flash comes to Gotham to help with the investigation. Nightwing doesn't appreciate it. Spoilers for BTAS, TNBA, JL/U and MOTB.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own _Justice League Unlimited._

(A/N: Set during the early episodes of JLU season one. This isn't in continuity with my other JL stories. Thanks to hhgbh for beta-ing!)_  
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_**New Shoes**_

_**Prologue**_

It was one of those rare stormy Central City nights. Wally didn't particularly enjoy them because they interfered with his traction – running into walls _wasn't_ funny no matter how much Ralph said it was – but mostly because of the mood they brought down on everybody. People were irritable, cars honked, drivers snapped insults at each other…

And Rogues liked to stand out right in the middle of it just for the sake of getting him wet. He was sure that was the only reason Captain Boomerang was out here. Yeah, there was that armoured car full of diamonds and other stuff Wally couldn't dream of buying on a crime scene investigator's salary, but that was just a bonus.

Boomerang's smile did nothing to discourage his opinion.

"Do you even know how wet and cold it is?!"

A boomerang followed him up the side of a building. He leapt off, grabbed a lamppost and swung down to street level, the boomerang colliding with the lamp instead. An already black night was made even darker.

"Don't worry about me, mate. I'm wrapped up as snug as a bug!" Three more boomerangs flew at him.

Wally ducked one and grabbed the second, throwing it into the third and shattering them both. "Snug as a- what does that even _mean?"_

The first boomerang swung around and ended up back in Boomerang's hand.

"Look, never mind. Can we do this later? I mean, I _know _you'd rather be at the bar sipping some Arnold Palmer with your buddies."

He seemed to consider it for a moment before shrugging. "I'd rather be sipping Arnold Palmer on a beach in Hawaii, which is exactly where this stuff will get me!"

A gloved hand pulled another boomerang out of his drenched coat and tossed it at Wally. Years worth of experience told the speedster that it was explosive.

"Fine," Wally sighed loudly. He kicked down on a drain cover in front of him, propelling it up and into his hands. A quick duck and the boomerang shot over his head and curved back around to its' owner. Wally tossed the drain cover and intercepted the explosive before it reached Boomer.

The explosion made Flash wince as Boomerang was tossed back and collided with the wall with a mighty thud.

Boomerang groaned, and Wally charged at him, knocking him out with some well placed super-speed jabs.

Sirens wailed in the distance, brilliant blue and white glowing amidst the haze.

Why did they always arrive at the _end _of the fight?

After filling in an annoyed and soggy Officer Chyre (Detective Morillo beside him seemed rather smug in his yellow waterproof coat) and making sure Boomer was safely inside the prisoner transport van, Flash set off for home.

Many a time his female friends and/or relatives had talked about how much they were looking forward to a hot shower. He never really appreciated that until now.

Within a few seconds of entering his apartment his clothes were thrown to all sides of the room and hot water was blasting down on him. Another few minutes ("Cleanliness can't be rushed," Aunt Iris would always say) and he was in the kitchen in a robe looking for a snack.

He pulled out a box of Lucky Charms and tucked them underneath his arm, still rubbing his stubbornly squeaky hair as he took a bowl and sat down on a stool beside the kitchen 'table'. Well, Wally called it a table, although it really more resembled a bar, and every visitor he had told him so. Aunt Iris, Uncle Barry, John, although in the weeks leading up to the invasion he hadn't been too bothered.

Wally scowled at where his thought patterns were going and leapt over to the fridge, taking some milk and a carton of orange juice. He closed it and turned around, promptly leaping out of his skin at the shadow stood in his living room.

"WHOA!"

After some panicked juggling, Wally came to bear holding the orange juice as a gun and the milk as a sword.

The shadow didn't move, and Wally relaxed as recognition sunk in.

"Oh, it's just you," he breathed, letting his weapons drop and sinking onto his kitchen stool. "Geez, J'onn… give a guy some warning, huh?"

He poured out the lucky charms as J'onn spoke.

"I apologise. We tried calling you, but your communicator was switched off."

"Well, yeah, but… that's because it's only supposed to turn on when there's an, uh… orange level emergency."

"Omega level."

"Well, whatever." He poured the milk into the bowl. "So… why are you here? Social call?"

"…not exactly."

"Didn't think so," he replied, scowling as he realised he didn't have a spoon.

"We have been concerned-"

"I'm fine, J'onn, okay? I mean, I'd be better if…" he trailed off as he searched the cutlery draw in vain for a spoon.

"If what?"

"If I…" he grumbled some more and moved over to the dishwasher, where he found all the spoons were dirty. "If I could find a clean spoon!" he declared to the heavens.

Looking a little irritated, J'onn stepped around the counter and picked up a spoon from the dishwasher, rubbing off what Wally assumed was dried milk with his thumb, leaving it sparkling. The Martian neutrally handed it over.

"Wow," Wally said quietly, impressed that he could see his own reflection in it. "I didn't know you could do that."

He shrugged. "I turned my thumb into a sponge."

"Neat."

"Indeed. As I was saying, we have been concerned about the well being of our team in general."

"New guys and gals having trouble?" Wally asked, stuffing his face and finishing the first bowl within seconds.

"You misunderstand. We were more concerned about the well being of _our _team. We decided it would be beneficial to have a… party."

Wally paused almost imperceptibly as he refilled the bowl.

"Batman has… volunteered Wayne Manor for the proceedings."

That elicited a grin from the speedster. "Diana made him cave, huh?"

A small smile graced the Martian's lips. "In any case, you have been invited by generous multi billionaire Bruce Wayne to a social gathering at Wayne Manor."

Wally stopped in mid feed, some milk dribbling from his chin. He wiped it away before speaking. "You mean as Wally West?"

J'onn nodded.

"Won't that look… weird? I mean, how are you and John and Diana going to go?"

"Diana has publicly met Bruce Wayne before in Paris. I can assume any form I choose. Green Lantern… is going with Vixen."

Flash flipped through his mental catalogue of superheroes. _Vixen, Vixen…_

A noise akin to a sigh escaped J'onn. "Mari McCabe."

"The supermodel?"

A nod.

"Wow… okay. And Supes is going because he's a reporter, okay… and how am I coming?"

Somehow, J'onn managed to pull a card from his person. "As a photographer."

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Dick had been hoping for something a bit more relaxing. He'd had enough of pounding noise from the shower of bullets Firefly's thugs had unleashed upon him the day before. He'd been hoping for a nice sit down and catch up with his old Gotham State U buddy, Brian Rogers.

For the second time that week, Brian had had something else in mind.

He was pretty sure that the lights were scorching his retinas, so he kept to the bar, only drinking beer. Hard liquor didn't really go down well with him; probably Bruce's influence, when he thought about it. Beer was more acceptable to his subconscious because of the superficial resemblance to soda.

Tina pushed her way through the crowd, her brownish blonde hair not quite glistening under the lights.

"Dick! You'll never guess who I found!"

Dick didn't want to know. He had met Tina on his first excursion into Gotham's othernight life with Brian. He liked her and she seemed to like him with little reason to, since he barely talked upon their first meeting. They had only gone out a few times since then, although nothing serious had really come of it. A few kisses here, a few movies there…

She wasn't exactly the brightest bulb in the box, but Dick actually found that rather relaxing at first. Someone who wouldn't be so perceptive as to know when he was walking slightly funny, or wincing just a little bit when someone touched his arm.

But now she was just getting annoying. And that was leaving out the fact she kept on bringing over random men who had taken a liking to her and introducing Dick as her friend.

"This is Roger!" she said, her arm firmly around his waist and his on her rear.

Dick nodded a greeting, but Roger barely registered him. Dick ordered another drink.

"I'll have a tequila shooter, thanks man," Roger said quickly.

A thin smile adorned Dick's lips. "Good for you, but you'll have to wait until I've ordered my drink."

"What?"

He patted his pockets in a big gesture. "I'm out of money!" he said, handing over some loose change to the bartender for his beer to emphasise the point.

Roger and Tina kept on talking under the lights, eventually disappearing back into the crowd and to the dance floor when their pretence of including Dick became boring.

The beer seemed to disappear in a few seconds, and Dick waded into the crowd to search for Brian.

He found him dancing between two girls, both of them showing an amount of flesh that reminded Dick of Helena's costume. He bumped into and shoved his way past quite a few dancers (he would have sworn someone pulled his ponytail) on his way over, finally settling for a gently touch on the arm to gain his friend's attention.

Brian barely noticed him when he said he would talk to him later. While Dick hadn't been drunk that many times himself, he had been to enough of Bruce's soiree's to know when someone was severely under the influence. He considered staying to make sure Brian got home okay, but remembered that Brian had booked a limo to come and pick everyone up at the door of the club ("What's the point of being a football star if you can't show it off a little?").

Relatively sure of his friend's safety, Dick made a hasty retreat through the crowd, not being able to force his way out into the cold Gotham night fast enough. Winter was on the way out, but Spring had yet to get its grips on Gotham. Something about the city seemed to resist the change of seasons.

People gave him strange looks as he walked through the streets, but he didn't pay them any attention. Most of them were stumbling about in a vain effort to resemble sobriety, while others had abandoned all pretence and laughed at the way the puddles in the sidewalk made them look funny.

He hoped to God Barbara wasn't out on patrol tonight. He really didn't need her smugness all up in his face.

Although that wasn't technically true. He would enjoy talking to her right now. He would probably even enjoy the smugness, at least inwardly.

After a twenty minute walk, Dick was riding up the elevator to his loft. A familiar although not exactly welcome shadow was waiting for him, standing on the balcony.

Dick smiled. He hadn't been able to get past the alarms in the windows.

Slower than he had to, Dick sauntered over to the window, punched in his security code, and slid it open.

"Can I help you?"

"You've been drinking."

There was a measure of distaste in his voice, although well hidden.

"One beer away from being a full blown alcoholic," Dick said, smiling as he tossed his jacket off onto the sofa.

"Don't take it so lightly. It can sneak up on you."

"Thank you, wise one. I spent years training physically and mentally under the best tutors, but I never knew about the dangers of alcohol."

Dick realised he had just paid Bruce a compliment, but pretended he didn't notice.

"What's up?" he said, sounding more irritable than he felt.

"I'm holding a fundraiser at the Manor. I want you to come."

"Right. And you couldn't do this over the phone, why?"

"Other people have been invited."

"How odd, for a party."

Bruce continued as though he hadn't spoken. "_Special _people."

There was only the briefest of pauses before Dick spoke. "Justice League?"

No response, which in Batmanese meant 'yes'.

"I see. But still, you could have told me over the phone."

"I wanted to check up on you."

"…oh."

"I haven't seen you on patrol."

He shrugged. "I've been working different parts of town."

"Batgirl hasn't seen you either."

"Ah."

The shadow of the Dark Knight shifted as though uncomfortable. "Is everything all right, Dick?"

"Yeah."

Batman stared.

"I'm okay, really."

Batman stared.

"Look, I'm tired. I'm going to bed. Give me a _call _later on to tell me when the party is, all right?"

Dick turned and went up the stairs to his bed, still aware of how Batman was staring at him. He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

A few minutes later, Bruce left. Dick could have sworn he heard a 'good night' while he spat into the sink.

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	2. Fast Friends

Disclaimer: I don't own _Justice League Unlimited._

_**New Shoes**_

**_Chapter One: Fast Friends_**

Wally looked out the window, having grown tired of fiddling with his camera after the first five minutes of the journey.

"Why couldn't we have used the teleporter again?"

Supes sighed, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove.

Superman. Driving. It made Wally giggle inside.

"Superman and the Flash can teleport down to Earth for parties. Clark Kent and his old friend from out of town Wally West have to drive."

"But it's so _slow_."

"I know," he said, his tone making Wally think that he actually did. "But it's something you have to get used to."

A roll of his eyes and Wally was looking out the window again.

Clark noticed.

"Is everything okay?"

"Huh?"

"I said, is everything okay?"

"Uh… yeah. Why?"

He shrugged. "You haven't been to the meetings lately. I was wondering if there was something wrong." He smiled and looked over at Wally. "Aquaman's not exactly a lot of fun in the conference room."

Wally grinned back. "Yeah, I bet."

The engine continued on with a hushed rumble. Inane chatter from Radio DJs made the silence barely manageable.

"So?"

"So, what?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just haven't been coming to meetings because… I've been busy."

"Busy."

"Yeah, busy. Central City stuff, you know. That's why I've been on the reserve roster for the past few months. Taking care of the hometown."

Another pause.

"So you're sure?"

"Y'know what? I'm going to put a CD on. What've you got in here?"

"…um…"

"_Nothing?_ In your own car? C'mon, I bet you've got some Beach Boys in here somewhere. They seem your type."

"I have a 'type'?"

"Yeah. Cheerful, happy…" He frowned. "Wait, that's me…"

He shook his head. "Never mind." A quick hand darted out and turned up the radio, not too loud as to disturb Clark, but loud enough to dissuade any further attempts at conversation.

"You'll enjoy it," Clark said, his eyes on the road. "Kara's going to be there. You can talk to her."

The DJs continued talking.

A motorcycle roared past, quickly disappearing over the ridge.

It wasn't as fast he would have liked, but Wally would rather have been there than in the car.

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Dick had managed to ignore the several disgruntled looks from the other patrons of the fundraiser, but when he caught Alfred's glare, he couldn't help but a shrink a little.

"Master Dick, I understand that young people like loud, fast objects, but might I request that you refrain from using such things as transportation for the more," he gestured to the crowd that were gathered in the living room of Wayne Manor, "_cultured _meetings?"

"Sorry, Alfred."

"Not at all, lad. I understand perfectly."

Dick smiled. "A bit of a hell raiser on a motorcycle, were we?"

"Certainly not," he replied quickly, although there was a lack of conviction in his words. "Allow me to take your coat, Master Dick."

He blinked. "Oh. Uh, thanks." He had almost forgotten what these events were like.

"Enjoy the party."

Slowly, Dick made his way into the crowd, keeping his eyes peeled for a snack bar of some kind. He hadn't eaten anything since morning, and while he had been conditioned to be able to function without food for a few days, he didn't _like _to.

Besides, any food that Alfred had a hand in was always great.

After nodding greetings and shaking hands with people he barely remembered from four or five years ago, Dick finally managed to reach a snack table. He reached out to grab a plate just as another large hand beat him to it.

"Oh. Sorry. Here, you have it."

_Let's see… glasses, pretty tall, slicked back hair, blue suit with a red tie…_

"Clark Kent, right?"

He cocked a wary eyebrow. "That's right. And you are?"

"I'm Dick Grayson."

Warmth replaced paranoia, and Mr Kent clapped an eager hand around Dick's, shaking it firmly.

"Bruce Wayne's... ward, isn't it?"

"That's right."

"So I take it you…" Clark traced an R on the tablecloth with his finger.

Dick smiled. "Not anymore."

"That's right. Sorry, I forget sometimes."

"It's okay." He paused. "So, I guess that you're…" he traced an S on the tablecloth.

Kent checked around the room while making it look like he wasn't. "Did Bruce tell you that?" he asked. If there was any hint of anger in his voice, Dick couldn't detect it.

"Nah. He only told me that some his… special colleagues would be coming. So it wasn't hard to guess. I thought that maybe you were…" He traced two M's on the table, "but I guess not."

"No, I'm not him. He's here somewhere though."

"I'm looking forward to meeting everyone. Bruce doesn't say much about it."

Clark handed Dick a plate, and they both loaded up.

"He doesn't?"

"Not really. But then again, unless it's about business he doesn't really see the point in talking, so it's not that weird."

"I can imagine."

"Is he like that with you?"

He nodded. "But you learn to deal with it. Some of us even make fun of him for it."

"You?"

Clark shook his head. "Kryptonite in his belt," he mumbled.

Dick smiled, not sure whether he was joking or not. "Then who?"

"He's here somewhere." A smile crept across his lips. "He's my photographer for the evening."

"I thought that was Jimmy Olsen?"

An impressed look crossed his face. "It is. But Bruce… insisted on Wally."

"I bet."

Something caught Clark's eye in the crowd, and he nodded. "I'm sorry, would you excuse me?"

"Yeah, sure."

"It was nice meeting you, Dick."

"Yeah, you too."

Dick looked over into the crowd as Clark left, and found him talking to a gaunt man even taller than the Man of Steel.

The Martian?

People jostled him in their attempts to get to the snack bar, so he took his plate and made as quick and graceful an exit as possible.

"Dick? Dick Grayson?"

He winced and turned around, 'nice boy Mr Grayson' smile plastered on his face. "Hey, Veronica."

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Wally had been on his way back to the snack bar when he had seen Clark talking to J'onn. And while he was certainly interested in filling his belly as soon as possible, something about the looks on their faces drew him away for the moment.

"What's going on?"

The two stopped.

"It's nothing," J'onn said flatly.

"No, c'mon. Is it an emergency?"

Clark smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "Wally, it's nothing to worry about."

"You mean it's nothing for _me _to worry about."

Clark and J'onn exchanged looks. "Well… you _are _on the reserve roster at the moment," he said, regretting it instantly.

"So it's just information cut off, huh?"

He sighed. "Sorry, Wally."

Wally just shrugged, the will to argue strangely absent. "It's okay." Quickly, he looked around the room. "I guess you guys are going then, huh?"

Clark nodded. "Will you tell Bruce?"

"Yeah, sure. But… won't he want to come along?"

"Maybe, but we don't need him for this." Clark paused. "Don'ttell him I said that."

A grin was the only response, but it faltered slightly as they left out the front entrance with expressions somewhere between dread and blithe confidence.

He sighed and set his sights for Bruce.

Bing. _We have a winner, folks._

He was talking to some red haired lady and another guy who looked a little like Bruce, just a bit younger and was that a ponytail?

Someone else danced into his peripheral vision, and Wally looked over at the approaching John, the gorgeous Mari McCabe on his arm.

Eh. Bruce could wait. He'd just scowl a bit and go off to the cave in a huff that he wasn't invited anyway.

"Hey," Wally said cheerfully, glad to see his friend. It had been a month or two, at least. "Enjoying the party?"

John didn't look like it. "It's okay."

Mari smiled. "He _means _that it was very gracious of Mr Wayne to invite us to this party."

A low grumble was John's only response.

She nudged him in the arm, and his gaze travelled over to her. She looked to John for help, who looked back at her, clueless.

Finally, he got it and snapped his fingers.

"Oh. Mari, this is Wally West. Wally, Mari McCabe."

She extended her hand. "Just call me Mari."

Wally took it a bit too lethargically. "Only if you call me Wally."

"Deal. So, Wally, how do you know John?"

"Uh… we, uh…"

This time Wally looked to the Lantern for help.

"Uh, he… used to live in my apartment building," John said, sounding far too satisfied with the lame excuse.

"Used to live in your apartment building."

"Yeah."

She looked at Wally, and he grinned in an attempt at looking earnest.

"Right." She sighed. "I'm going to go and get a drink. Do you want anything, boo?"

Wally tried not to react. _Boo?_

"Uh, no," John said, smiling warmly. "I'm okay."

Stunning brown eyes settled on Wally. "And would you like anything?"

"Nah, I'm fine. Thanks."

Mari melted into the crowd to get her drink, whatever it would be.

"So?" John asked from beside him, arms folded.

"What?"

"What do you think?"

Wally looked at him like he had suddenly become white.

"You're asking for _my _opinion?"

"Yeah."

"What did she do to you?"

The sudden uncomfortable look on John's face made Wally think about what he just said.

"Oh. Geez, I'm sorry… I wasn't talking about… uh…" he sighed. "Sorry."

John tried to recover with a smile. "It's okay. How're things in Central City?"

"Better. Thanks for helping me out with Heatwave last time."

"No problem."

Silence grew between them, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or clink of glasses from another part of the Manor.

It wasn't usually this hard.

"She's nice."

John looked at him for a moment before replying. "Thanks."

A shrug was the only reply. "Well, uh, I've gotta go and tell Brucie something, so…"

"I'll tell Mari you liked her."

"Yeah, do."

Wally wasn't sure if he did.

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Bruce hadn't been happy with whatever the red haired guy had told him. It made him scowl, but in that almost imperceptible way that Dick could only see by looking at his eyes. They always hardened and focused on something in the distance.

He politely excused himself to Veronica and left, trying his best not to shove people out of the way as he went up the stairs to make 'an important call'.

Young redhead guy stayed, looking like he wasn't sure what to do with himself.

Veronica sighed and rolled her eyes. "Can we just get on with it?"

The guy frowned, and then looked down at the camera around his neck like it was an alien object. His head whipped back up.

"Oh, you mean…" he cleared his throat. "Yes, of course, Miss…" He tried to cover his panic, but couldn't quite get there.

Dick, stood behind Veronica, mouthed the word 'Vreeland'.

"…Furryland."

The smile was impossible to stop, so Dick just put a hand in front of his face as Veronica scowled and stormed off, looking for Bruce so that she could ask which newspaper the obnoxious photographer came from.

Redhead looked at him. "What, it's not Furryland?"

"No," Dick laughed, shaking his head. "It's not Furryland. Vreeland. Veronica Vreeland."

"Oh." He shrugged. "She seemed kinda snooty anyway."

He looked back through the crowd. "I suppose so…"

"Thanks for trying to help, anyway." Redhead extended a hand. "I'm Wally West."

Dick took it. "Dick Grayson." Recognition flashed across Wally's face. "And you're obviously not a photographer."

"If I am, I'm pretty bad at it." He smiled. "No, I'm, uh…" After a quick look around, Wally used two fingers to imitate running.

"Ah. How's Central City?"

"At the moment? Wet."

This time, Dick smiled openly. Someone human to talk to.

"What's going on with Bruce?"

Wally shrugged. "No idea. They don't really talk to me about this stuff anymore."

Dick hadn't been expecting that. "I thought you were going to tell me it's 'none of my concern'."

A grin grew on the speedster's face. "You've known Ba… Bruce for a long time, then."

"Uh… do you know who I am?"

"Uh…"

"Dick Grayson? Bruce's ward?"

"Ward?"

_Wow. Bruce really doesn't talk to the League about us._

"You mean like sidekick?" He looked Dick up and down and leant forward conspiratorially. "Aren't you a little old to be Robin?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Then… who are you?"

"I'm…" he stopped himself and looked around in annoyance. "Maybe we should talk about this in the kitchen."

"Yeah, okay. Can't be any worse than this," he said, holding up the camera. Dick nodded to his left, indicating for Wally to follow. The sounds of the party faded as they walked down a corridor, Wally looking around in abject curiosity.

"Say… are there any real snacks in there? Because this stuff, y'know, it's fancy, but… it's a party. Where are the potato chips and weenies and stuff?"

Dick wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. "Uh… Alfred doesn't really… _do _weenies."

"Oh. Potato chips?"

They came to the kitchen door, and Dick pushed it open, letting Wally go through first. "No. Well, he didn't let me have them in the house, anyway."

"Yeah, okay, so-" Wally around the kitchen. "_Who _are you?"

"I used to be Robin."

"Used to be?" He lifted the lid from one of the bubbling pots, smelling it. He made a face and put the lid back down. "What happened?"

"You work with Bruce, right?"

"Yeah," he replied, continuing on his foraging. He opened the fridge and saw a perfectly organised fridge, each shelf dedicated to a different type of food.

"Imagine living with him."

A pause. "Ouch."

Wally reached for some cake but paused when he saw a small note warning Master Timothy to leave the desserts for the party alone.

"So you can see why I'd leave."

Wally opted for a handful of carrots, but didn't bother to peel them.

"Leave? I thought you just changed your name or something."

"No. Well, I did, but I left as well."

"Oh. Where'd you go?"

"I travelled the world, trained with the best around," Dick said, pride seeping through his voice.

"Man, I'd love to do that."

"What? Train?"

"No, the travel thing." He took a loud munch of his carrot. "I mean, I can technically go wherever I want whenever, but it's the not same as a proper trip, y'know?"

"I guess not."

Wally held out a carrot to him.

"No thanks."

"Sure? Helps you see in the dark. And you guys could use that."

Dick laughed. "Yeah, I guess we could." He took one and took a bite. "So you've been with the Justice League for how long?"

"Since it started. I was one of the founding members," the same pride Dick had shown now coming from Wally.

"So you work with Bruce a lot."

He paused. "Kinda."

"So you don't."

"Well, I do, but… I don't know him that well. I knew GL and uh… Hawkgirl… better."

One of the pots on the counter began to bubble over. Both men dashed over to it, Wally trying to lift it off while Dick tried to turn down the flames beneath it.

"No, just wait and I'll-"

"It's bubbling over the place, I just think-"

"Ow! Hot!"

"Ahem."

Alfred gently pushed his way between the two, cooking gloves at the ready. He picked up the pot and put it on the counter and turned off the flame.

"Please, Master Dick. If you would be so kind as to vacate the premises. As I recall, none of the masters in this house can safely reside in the kitchen."

"Sorry," he managed sheepishly.

"Yeah, me too Jeeves."

"You may call me Alfred, Master…"

"Uh… Wally West."

"Master Wallace."

"Just Wally's fine."

"Of course, Master Wallace. And were I not serving you, I would indeed call you by said name."

Wally's mouth opened to say something, but he put the carrot in there instead to shut himself up.

"And I would thank you not to spoil your appetite with sugary-" the butler stopped when the saw the carrots. "Oh. Well… take one, but leave the rest in the fridge, if you would be so kind."

A simultaneous "okay" was the reply, and they did as they were told before heading for the door.

"Oh, Master Dick; before it slips my mind. Mistress Barbara has arrived. I thought you might be interested."

"I'm not," he said quickly, pushing the door open far too hard. Wally, still munching away at his carrot, looked from Dick to Alfred before following his new companion.

"Uh, what was that about?"

"Nothing. Alfred just thinks he's got the book written on match making."

"Oh. You and Barbara a bad match, huh?"

He snorted. "Kinda, yeah."

Wally decided the subject wasn't worth pursuing after seeing how viciously Dick took his next bite from his carrot.

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The food was uniformly excellent, especially compared to the greasy Chinese takeout around the corner. But then again, the food wasn't really on Dick's mind.

"Something wrong?"

Tim's words were somewhat muffled by the cascading mess of spaghetti falling from his mouth.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

He sucked it up loudly. "Sorry, _mom_."

"Just try and be normal, okay?"

"Why? It's not like anyone's going to figure anything out by looking at my table manners."

"That's not why you should be normal."

"Why, then?"

"Because _someone_ is giving you the look."

Tim looked over. Bruce wasn't even looking at him, but the butler stood behind him was. Glaring, in fact.

"Oh. Well, that's just Alfred."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Tim turned back to Dick and smiled slyly. "So," he said slowly, "you feeling jealous yet?"

"Of what? You and the spaghetti? No, I'm fine with my smoked salmon."

"No," he said, exasperated. "Them." A nod of the head drove Dick's gaze over to another part of the table where Wally was sat talking with Barbara and Kara.

"Well?" Tim continued, smug.

"I'm not even going to tell you to shut up."

Barbara laughed at something Wally said a bit _too _much.

Robin's smirk grew. "You are _so _jealous."

"Look, I'm not even interested in her like that anymore. Besides, even if I was-" he put up his finger to stop Tim from speaking, "which I'm _not_, they're just talking to each other… laughing with each other…" he stopped. "Leaving… with each other…"

He almost got out of the chair as the leaving Wally, Barbara and Kara said a few words to Bruce, who smiled and nodded in his billionaire way.

Before Dick had even begun to comprehend a response, Alfred had fetched their coats and led them out of the Manor.

"What just happened?"

"You're jealous, that's what."

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	3. Troubling

Disclaimer: I don't own _Justice League Unlimited._

_**New Shoes**_

_**Chapter Two: Troubling**_

Wally still hadn't decided if he liked this Watchtower more than the old one. The old one had been a club house in space, whereas this one felt like an office building. But it was less lonely.

And all the girls in their costumes didn't hurt either. That green haired one was driving him nuts.

_Bad Wally. Keep eyes on the food. You're dating someone now._

He pictured the stunned looks on everyone's faces.

Flash? Dating? As in… a relationship?

But Flash doesn't have relationships.

Not that he was doing this to prove a point. He genuinely liked Barbara, even though he hadn't expected to judging by the way that Grayson guy was talking about her. Wally didn't get what his problem was now.

Barbara was great. She laughed at his jokes (always a plus), listened when he talked, didn't treat him like an idiot, even though he acted like one sometimes. And, of course, she had a fantastic body.

He mentally slapped himself and took a bite of his burger.

Batman had only just returned to regular duty on the Watchtower two days ago. Busy in Gotham, apparently. Wally was rapidly alternating between wanting to talk to him and just running away every time he got close.

"Flash?"

He knocked the chair over as he sprung to his feet in terror.

Elongated Man grabbed the chair with a stretchy arm.

"Whoa, buddy. Not here to hurt you."

"Oh. Sorry."

"What's got you so worked up?" he said, slipping into his chair and watching Wally as he sat in his.

"Uh… nothing. I'm just…"

"Batman?"

"Huh?"

"Batman. You're dating Batgirl now, right?"

Wally frowned. He had only met Elongated Man a few weeks before the Thanagarian invasion, but the good impression he had left led Flash to sponsor his inclusion in the new League. Of course, the only other superhero type guy Flash had known was Mophir, so they probably took Ralph to avoid the alternative.

"_Creeper's one too many as it is," _Clark had said.

But did Wally trust Ralph with such a potentially gossip worthy piece of news?

Hell, yes.

"Oh, yeah," he said, grinning and leaning back in his chair. "She's great."

"You gone out with her yet?"

"That's kinda part and parcel of dating someone," he whispered.

He rolled his eyes. "No, I mean have you gone _out _with her yet?"

"Oh, you mean- no, no crime fighting." Wally idly dipped a fry in some ketchup. "Why? You think I should?"

"Well… just to see if you've got a good working relationship. She's not in the League, is she?"

"No."

"Why is that?"

"Could you turn off the detective stuff for one minute?"

"Nope." He wiggled two fingers against his temple. "It's embedded."

"Figures. But yeah, I don't know why. She's on a break from college at the moment, so maybe it's because of that."

"But Robin and Nightwing aren't in the League either."

"Robin and who?"

"Nightwing." The look Wally gave him made Ralph sigh. "He used to be Robin."

"Oh, I met _him_."

"At the party?"

"Yeah, at the-" he paused. "How'd you know about that? Were you there?"

"No, I wasn't invited."

"Oh. Wait, so…" he looked from side to side. "Do you know why I was invited?"

Ralph didn't talk for a moment or two as he tested his soup. Too hot. "Photographer, or something like that."

Flash's face did something funny under his mask, and Ralph couldn't help but smile.

"Is there anything you don't know?"

"Let's see…" Ralph tapped his chin with an elongated finger. "How come you're back up here? I thought you'd taken a leave of absence to look after Central City."

"I did. I mean, I have. I just wanted to come up and check on everything. See how it's going, you know?"

"So you were lonely."

"No! I have plenty of friends in Central City."

Ralph didn't reply, instead opting for another cautious sip of his soup. Just right. "When are you seeing her again?"

"I don't know. We've both got schedules to work around."

"Starcrossed lovers, huh?"

"Drink your soup."

But it didn't stop the grin on Wally's face.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nothing could stop the scowl on Dick's face.

It wasn't something that Tim had seen in Nightwing a lot. Batman, yes. Batgirl _very _occasionally (usually after some off-handed comment from Batman), but not Nightwing.

But then again, the ex-Robin was rarely in the cave long enough to sit brooding at the computer, tapping an idle finger on a bare space of control panel.

"Uh… there a problem?" Tim asked, moving over to the booth where the Robin costume was displayed.

No response. Tim shrugged and started getting changed.

"You know, if she sees you here waiting, she's gonna think it's about her…"

"It's not."

Tim gasped. "He speaks!"

Dick shot him a dirty look. "I'm looking up some case files on Poison Ivy. I think she's up to something."

"Isn't Bruce looking into that?"

"Yeah, but he's away with the League again. I figured I'd catch up on his case load."

"Why?" Tim grinned as he attached his cape. "Trying to take your mind off of Wally and Barbara?"

"No."

He answered _way _too quickly.

"Oh, come on, how jealous are you?"

"Zero. Nothing. As in, 'not jealous'."

"Whatever you say, but from where I'm standing it looks like your stunning blue eyes are taking on a shade of green."

"Good. Adds to my exotic appeal."

Tim groaned and walked over to the computer, domino mask dangling loosely in his hand.

"Wait…" he suddenly shot his hand out and pressed a button before Dick could react.

"I don't believe it! You're looking up Wally?"

"Well… he might be… bad news."

He smiled slyly. "For Barbara?"

"Yes. No. Yes."

"You're gonna have to pick one, chief."

"Yes, for Barbara. But it's just about her effectiveness as Batgirl. Believe me, romantic stuff can really put you off your game."

Tim nodded, seemingly considering it. "Yeah. I remember how Bruce was when he was engaged to that plant lady."

"Exactly. So you understand why I'm concerned."

"Sure I do."

"Good."

"You're jealous of Wally and Barbara, and you're covering it up by pretending to make it all about business. I swear, you're getting more like himevery day."

Dick glared. "Like _him_?" he said, pointing to a picture of Flash holding a Light Speed energy bar.

"No, not him. I wish."

Dick started, but Tim put his hands up.

"I don't mean, like…" he sighed. "Look, Wally's just a bit more relaxed than you. That's all. You're kinda tense."

"When am I tense?"

Tim cocked an eyebrow. "Well for one thing, you've been crushing the armrest with your hand the whole time we've been talking."

"I-" Dick's head whipped down to look, and he blinked. He hadn't realised he'd been doing that.

He scowled and looked back at the screen. "Just go to your Teen Titans meeting."

Tim smiled and turned to go, but thought better of it for a moment.

"He's an okay guy, Dick. You don't have to worry about her."

"I told you, that's not why I'm worried."

He rolled his eyes, slipped on his mask, and left the cave.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Diana tried not to roll her eyes at Wally's behaviour.

"Flash?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

He peeked out from behind the chair. "I thought you said Bats was coming."

"No, I said Batman was on his way."

"Oh. Okay." Slowly, he rose, still looking around before he decided all was safe and flopped into the command center chair.

J'onn rarely elected to sit for his duties. It worried Diana sometimes.

"Why are you hiding from Batman?"

Wally very nearly shot her a sarcastic look, but quickly remembered who he was talking to.

"Because I'm dating his sidekick."

Instantly Diana tried to remember.

"R-"

"Batgirl," he intervened quickly. "_Batgirl_."

She nodded, hiding her smile. "And… why would that make you want to hide?"

"Have you _met _Bats? Moody, pointy ears?" he asked, putting his fingers up on either side of his head to emphasise.

Rather than replying verbally, she just gave him a look that instantly made him shrink.

"So… uh, yeah. He wouldn't exactly take it well."

"Why not?" Something clicked in her head. "Are they…?" She didn't finish the sentence, but it was enough for Wally to eventually get the gist.

"What? Ew, no! Yikes, what makes you think Bats would go _there_?" He put up his hands. "Okay, _totally _didn't mean that like it sounded. But Batgirl's my age and Bats is… what? Fifty?"

Diana smiled. "Not exactly. But I get your point." She frowned. "So why are you hiding from Batman?"

He sighed. "Not gonna let this go, huh?"

Her smile returned.

"Okay… Bats is a protective guy. And, y'know, he doesn't like me much, so I don't think he'll be too happy."

"What makes you think he doesn't like you?"

"Well… maybe 'doesn't like' is a bit harsh. But I'm not exactly best buds with him."

"Who is?"

This time Wally shot her a look, but instead of responding she just walked to the control panel and started pushing some buttons.

"I think you should give Batman a chance," she said plainly. "He might not react as badly as you think."

"…right. And what happy pills have _you_ taken this morning?"

"I'm serious, Flash," she replied, turning to look at him. "Just talk to him."

He crossed his arms and half-heartedly stamped his foot. "But I don't want to…" he mumbled.

J'onn strolled over from the other side of the command center.

"Batgirl?" he asked, and Diana nodded. After rapidly tapping away on a few different control panels, he turned to look at Wally. "By the way, Batman is now on the Watchtower."

Flash almost leapt out of his chair. "Oh! That's good."

Diana directed a 'well?' eyebrow in his direction.

He sighed and relaxed in his chair. "Guess I should go tell him, huh?"

"I would think that he already knows," J'onn added.

Both of his companions looked at him.

"Do you _know _that? Did you take peek in his head?"

"No," he said quickly, sounding insulted. "I am merely saying that he is the World's Greatest Detective."

Wally lit up. "So I can just assume he knows and go out with Batgirl, right? Because he would have done something about it if he already knew, right? So I can just…"

A black leather clad hand landed on his chair and spun it around.

The nervous smile on Wally's face only got worse as he spoke. "Hey, Bats… how's it going?"

He leaned in far too close.

"You hurt her, and I will maim you."

After holding Wally's gaze for about a year, he suddenly stood up to his full height and walked over to J'onn, talking to him about how the Javelin bay doors could open faster.

Diana patted his shoulder. "See? Easy."

He nodded and laughed, but it sounded more like a hiccup.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of his earpiece beeping was more annoying than it usually was. Dick put it down to the fact that he was trying to concentrate.

"Yeah?"

"_Hey, it's Robin. How's it going?"_

He frowned and put the binoculars to his face. "Fine."

"_Any problems? Because I can be there like a Flash."_

"Ha, ha."

"_But seriously, I can be there if you need me."_

"It's under control."

"_What is it? Poison Ivy?"_

"Not exactly."

"_Harley Quinn?"_

"No."

"_Joker?"_

Dick didn't respond.

"_Ventriloquist?"_

The silence continued.

Tim voice went deadly low. _"Killer Croc."_

Nothing.

"_Oh, man… tell me you're not spying on her."_

Dick still didn't say anything, and Tim groaned loudly.

"_Geez, why are you _trying_ to act like Batman?"_

"I'm not. I'm just looking out for her."

The smirk was audible. _"So you are jealous."_

"I'm concerned. And the big bad Dark Knight doesn't seem to be taking an interest, so somebody's got to do it."

"_That's because Batman knows him. He trusts him."_

"Batman doesn't trust anyone, Tim."

"_He trusts _you _not to do stupid stuff like this."_

For a moment, Dick was without a retort.

"You really believe that?"

"_Yeah, I do_." A loud yawn came over the comm.

"You sound tired."

"_I'm okay."_

"Go to bed."

"_I'm okay,"_ he said again, more insistent.

"I'll tell Alfred."

Silence.

"_Fine. But try to leave her alone, okay?"_

Dick adjusted his binoculars.

"_Okay?"_

"Yes, okay."

"_Good. See you tomorrow." _

"Night."

"You should listen to him."

Dick whirled around, throwing stars wedged between his fingers. He relaxed when he recognised him, but not much.

"God… You should warn a guy."

"Not when he's got throwing stars." Batman walked over and stood beside him, looking over into the building opposite.

An eyebrow rose. Did Batman just make a joke? Bruce hadn't made a joke in his presence since he was Robin.

He held out a hand to Dick. It took him a few seconds before he handed over the binoculars.

"They look like they're enjoying themselves." Batman continued looking at them, but spoke directly to Dick. "Maybe you should be, too."

Dick was starting to feel a bit embarrassed. "Look… I just wanted to-"

"I know what you wanted to do," he said with surprisingly gentility, looking over at him. "But I think you should let it go."

"But he's…" he drooped. "He's not good for her."

"That's not for us to decide."

Old wounds stung for a moment, and the familiar anger rose.

"That's a bit rich, isn't it? Coming from you?"

The Dark Knight didn't reply. At least, not to his question.

"Let her make her own decisions, Dick."

He went to the other side of the rooftop before firing off a line, trying to avoid being spotted by Barbara and maybe Wally if he was observant enough.

Dick stared down at the building opposite, and watched as Wally held Barbara's hand across the table.

Smiling.

Laughing.

He groaned quietly and rubbed his eyes through his mask.

What the hell was he doing?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What the hell was that?"

Dick rubbed his eyes as he sat up in bed. The haze cleared when he saw the yellow bat symbol glowing in the darkness.

"Barbara?" he asked sleepily.

"Don't you 'Barbara' me. I saw you hanging around on that rooftop. Let me guess, Intergang was having a get together a few tables away from us, was that it?"

"Uh…" he sighed. "Listen, I'm sorry, I just-"

"Damn right, you're sorry. I like Wally. Just leave it alone, okay?"

Dick frowned. That sounded like a plea.

"Barbara… what do you think I'm going to do? Stalk you?"

"Isn't that the technical term for what you _were_ doing?"

"Nah, I was just suggestively looking in your direction."

"This isn't funny, Dick."

He shuffled himself until his back was against the headboard, then reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. In the half cast light, Barbara resembled Bruce when he wrapped his cape around himself.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"What's up with you? I was expecting this from Bruce, and for _you_ not to give a damn. Instead-"

"Wait, hold up. You were expecting _Bruce _to…" A bitter smile crossed his face. "Should've known."

Barbara cocked her head to the side, her hands on her hips. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Don't shut me out like that, Dick. It's like talking to Bruce, except he's getting better and you're getting worse."

Dick got out of bed. "Maybe I've got reason to," he muttered, making his way into the dojo area downstairs.

"What?"

"Nothing. Look, Barb, you're angry, I get that. But I've apologised and I'm not gonna do it again. So could you please just leave it at that? This isn't worth picking at, trust me."

She followed him down the stairs. "Why? Something you don't want me to see?"

He clenched his teeth. "For one minute, could you _just_…" A sigh relieved the tension in his body. "Just leave, okay? I won't bother you about Wally again."

He expected another retort.

"Good."

The window opened.

"See you, Dick."

He heard the faint noise of the grappling gun, and swoosh of air.

Dick, standing in front of his Nightwing costume, thought about going to bed.

A few hours later, Nightwing was on the prowl in the streets of Gotham.

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	4. Awkward

Disclaimer: I don't own _Justice League Unlimited._

(A/N: Thanks to hhgbh for beta-ing.)_  
_

_**New Shoes**_

_**Chapter Three: Awkward**_

Dick landed softly on the rooftop, never once faltering in his stride as he sprinted to the next ledge and leapt again.

True to his word, he had stayed away from all Barbara/Wally related things, be it going to a football game at Gotham Stadium, Barbara giving Wally a guided tour of the Manor (Alfred had never seen so many crumbs), or just going to see a movie.

He had instead occupied himself with the activities of one Rupert Thorne. Jail had been his home for at least a year after the Batwoman incident (Dick still regretted being abroad during that one), but now Thorne was out and looking to pick up where he left off. After going through all his snitches, he had been forced to find some new ones.

His elbow still stung from where he had hit someone in the teeth.

Eventually, he had managed to trace a sudden influx of small firearms into Gotham to Thorne, and found the loading area for said firearms.

Hopefully putting these guys out of business would take his mind off… other things.

"_I was expecting Bruce to act this way"…_

He landed on the rooftop overlooking the warehouse and shook his head. It wouldn't help anyone to linger on it, least of all him.

Expecting to be in for the long haul, Nightwing crouched beside the warehouse and started putting his binoculars to a better use than watching ex-girlfriends.

When he put it like that, even Dick had to admit it sounded creepy.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Batgirl knelt on the rooftop, and peeled her glove forward to look at her watch for what must have been the hundredth time that half hour.

She put two irritated fingers to her earpiece. "Robin! Where are you?"

"_Sorry! I got hung up."_

"Lost your boot again?" she sighed.

"_No, it's a good reason-" _he paused to grunt, _"-this time."_

"You need any help?"

"_Nah, I'm-"_ another grunt, _"-good. I'll be there in like five minutes."_

"Good. Because Thorne's goons are making the pickup in fifteen."

Silence.

"Robin?"

"_Yeah, I hear ya. Can I go now? I'm kinda busy."_

Another sigh. "Go for it."

She released the earpiece.

Why did Dick have to be so damned reserved about everything? He used to be so open. There was a time when he'd talk to her about everything.

_Of course, you might have changed that, Babs._

She told her brain to shut up.

Maybe that was why she liked Wally. He was the exact opposite of 'reserved', and, outside of Tim, all the men in her life were just that. Always putting on a front, disguising things, being the most unresponsive excuses for-

She sighed and rubbed her temples.

_Mighty Batgirl is about to go into a big fight. Mighty Batgirl doesn't need a headache too._

Her earpiece beeped, and she pressed it. "Robin?"

"_Close, but not quite!"_

A smile graced her features, and she looked around. "Flash?"

"_Please, babe, call me… actually, I'm on the Watchtower, so you'd better call me Flash."_

"You're on the Watchtower? Doing what?"

"_Monitor duty."_

She tried to put on her stern, disapproving voice. "Should you be doing that?"

"_Are you trying to be bossy with me? Because I'll have you know I was a founding member of the Justice League. Technically, I outrank you."_

"You do not."

"_Do too."_

"How come?"

"_Just because." _Static crackled for a minute. _"What're you up to?"_

"I'm on a stakeout."

"_Nuts. Are you okay to talk? Or did I just blow your cover?"_

She grinned. "No, it's okay, as long as I'm quiet."

"_Oh, okay." _Another pause. _"So. What are you wearing?"_

The grin was practically audible.

So was hers.

"Oh, you know, the usual ensemble. Black and yellow tights with a mess of hair sticking awkwardly out the back."

"_Sounds sexy."_

"It's really not."

"_Yeah, I know the feeling."_

She sat down on her backside, crossing her legs so she could be comfortable but still look at the warehouse.

"So what are doing? Besides monitoring the world in general."

"_At the moment? I'm trying to do this elastic band trick that Elongated Man showed me."_

"'Elongated Man'? You're kidding."

"_What? That's a legitimate name. It describes what he does, his gender…"_

"So I should call you Fast Man from now on?"

"_I didn't say that now."_

"What's the trick?"

"_Trick?"_

"The elastic band one?"

"_Oh, right. Well, you tangle an elastic band in your fingers, and then you ask someone questions. Then you take away different fingers depending on the answers, until you're left with a shape that tells you whether you're gay or not."_

Barbara mulled that over for a moment. "Whether you're… gay or not."

"_Yeah."_

"And what are you?"

"_Huh?"_

She smirked. "What are you?"

"_Well… when Ralph did it, I was…" _he trailed off.

Her smirk grew into a grin. "Right."

Robin landed on the rooftop and sat down next to her.

"Oops, gotta go."

"_Oh, hey, wait. Did you say you were on a stakeout or something?"_

"Yeah, with Robin."

"_Is he there?"_

"Yeah, he is."

"_Say hi to him from me."_

She sighed. "Robin, Flash says hi."

He smiled. "Ask him if he's got past the Supreme Wizard of Level Five yet."

"I'm not going to ask him that."

"_Oh, hey, while I remember; could you tell him I got past the Supreme Wizard of Level Five?"_

This sigh was heavier. "Robin… he got past the Supreme Wizard of Level Five."

"Cool! Ask him how."

She scowled. "I'm not being the messenger for you two."

"Oh, c'mon."

"_Oh, c'mon."_

"No. Now, me and Robin have business, so I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"_Wait, wait, that's what I was gonna say. I'm done here right about…" _he waited for a few seconds, _"…now, so if you leave your comlink on I could teleport down there."_

She blinked. "Oh. Okay. Are you sure that's okay? I mean, I don't want to be stepping on any-"

"_Nah, it's okay. I'm a founding Leaguer, remember? There's nothing I can't do. See you in a second."_

"Okay…" she answered numbly, her hand dropping to her side. She really wasn't in any condition to be seen right now. Her costume hadn't been washed, her hair was all over the place (she was planning on showering _after _the bust)… oh, crap.

"What'd he say?"

She looked over to Robin, his legs dangling over the ledge.

"He's coming down here to help."

"He is? Cool! I haven't seen any super people do stuff around here. Well, except Superman, but he was doing Batman stuff, so it wasn't really _that _cool."

Barbara was in the midst of trying to straighten her cape when Flash arrived in a bright blue Flash in the alleyway beneath them. A second later, he was on the rooftop.

"It's Flash time, boys and girls!"

Both Batgirl and Robin put their fingers to their lips and 'sssh'd him.

He ducked his head and smiled as though he was sneaking past his parents' bedroom late at night.

"Oops. Sorry. Not used to the whole stealth thing."

Barbara smiled in spite of herself. "You don't say."

Robin waved him over and patted the ledge beside him. "C'mon over, take a seat."

Looking slightly uncomfortable, Flash sat down on the ledge.

"Okay," he said shakily, staring down. "What are we waiting for?"

Barbara explained, and the Flash grin appeared.

"Bats fights gangsters? Like, tommy guns and everything?"

She was about to ask what exactly was wrong with tommy guns when someone landed on the roof. Both she and Robin pulled out their batarangs.

"Hey, hey, it's just me," Nightwing said, stepping out of the shadows. His smile vanished when he looked at Flash.

"What're you doing here?" he asked, either not bothering to disguise his disdain or just doing a really bad job of it.

Oblivious, Wally put his hands on his hips. "I wasn't busy, so I thought I'd stop by and lend a hand."

"Oh, good."

Even Flash got that signal. He noticed how Barbara was looking at Dick.

"Uh… is that a problem?"

"Obviously not," he said quietly, looking at Batgirl.

She resolved to have none of his attitude. "He can help, Nightwing."

"Yeah, he's real good at messing up and getting himself in trouble."

"Hey!"

Robin turned to him, frowning. "Sssh!"

"Sorry." He lowered his voice and looked at Barbara. "Hey, if there's a problem, I can go. I mean, you guys can handle this, right?"

"I'd say so, yeah," Nightwing added, crossing his arms.

"Shut up, Nightwing," Barbara said dismissively, turning around and pulling Wally away by the arm.

Dick obviously wasn't having any of her attitude either. "We don't need him, Bar- Batgirl."

"No, but it'd be nice to have the help, especially since we're busting an _arms_ shipment, don't you think?"

He looked away. "Just trying to rub it in my face…"

"What was that?"

"Sssh."

"I said, you're just trying to rub it in my face."

"_Sssh."_

"Sorry, but what you think of who I do and don't date isn't _that _important to me."

"SSSH."

"Right. Do you even have any idea what kind of guy he is?"

"Hey, what's that supposed to-"

"Shut up!"

All eyes fell to Robin.

"They're here."

Barbara turned back to Nightwing. "We'll discuss this later."

"Looking forward to that."

After sparing a glance at Wally, he ran to the ledge and leapt off with his wings extended, landing on the roof of the warehouse. Within seconds, all four of them were looking down through a window onto the smugglers as they quickly and efficiently emptied the contents of the truck.

Barbara quickly surveyed. Five on the upper level, seven on the ground floor. The five were sat around talking while the seven unloaded the truck.

She looks to Robin. "You take the three in the left corner. Flash, can you take the four in the middle?"

He gave her a little salute and a wink. "Like, now, or…?"

"Not yet." She looked over at Nightwing somewhat distastefully. "Think you can help me take the guys upstairs?"

"No problem."

She counted down to the three on her fingers, and then nodded. They went to work.

Flash, naturally, disappeared first. Robin leapt off the side of the building and used his grapple to swing through a window. Barbara and Dick used the window they were looking through, landing in the center of the group of men.

Barbara blocked a blow to the head and responded with an uppercut.

"It's not fair, you know."

"What?"

"You, getting all huffy because I'm dating someone." She ducked a right hook and kicked him in the belly. "It was bound to happen someday, you know."

"I'm not getting huffy."

"Oh, please. You were practically sulking back there."

"Like you were any different when it was me and Catwoman."

She forgot all her surroundings and stared at him. "How is this _remotely _like that?"

"Behind you."

Clenching her teeth, she whipped around and smashed her foot into the guy approaching her from behind. Teeth flew, blood squirted, and he fell down into a heap.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wally sidestepped one guy with a knife and punched the next in the face three times. "Hey, Robin?"

"Yeah?" he said, turning to look at him in midair.

"Is it just me, or does Nightwing not like me much?"

Robin landed, crouched, and swept his leg through the ankles of the guy in front of him. "It's not just you."

Wally paused. He hadn't expected that. "Oh." Another guy pulled a gun out and took aim. He zipped over and pulled the gun from him with one hand while knocking him out with the other.

"Why? I mean, I talked to him at the party and he seemed okay."

"That's because he is okay." He threw his bolas at another guy running at him with a plank of wood. "Unless you're going out with his ex-girlfriend."

"Oh. Whoops."

"Hey, you're the fastest man alive, right?"

Flash ducked a punch and tossed his assailant over his shoulder. "Yeah."

"Then why didn't you just take everyone out?"

He shrugged. "You guys know best."

Tim looked at him. "Okay… so what's the real reason?"

"I'm just letting everyone else have their fun."

"So you're holding back."

"Not holding back… it's just… when you're in a team, you don't take over for everyone else, you know? Because then you're not a team, you're… a bunch of guys who wait for the other guy to do everything for them."

"But you could if you wanted to."

"What, take out these guys?" He knocked out the last of his group with an uppercut. "Yeah."

A body from the upper level flew over their heads and crashed to the ground.

Flash looked at Robin. "Besides, I think they've got it under control."

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The wait for the police was not a particularly comfortable one for Wally. Robin occupied himself by trying to hit a bloodstain on the wall with a pieces of broken crate, and that had kept Wally's attention for a few minutes.

Until Nightwing and Batgirl had their non-staring contest. As in, the contest to see who would break first and look at the other, starting the argument anew.

Inwardly, he sighed. He'd been spending too much time around Bats.

If Grayson had been going out with Barbara, why didn't he tell Wally? They seemed to be getting along at the party.

The possibility that Nightwing was as emotionally stunted as Batman crossed Wally's mind. So that meant his output was limited to 'angry' and 'frustratingly closed off', and he didn't have much interest in dealing with that.

He had never liked being near this kind of thing, and being the _cause _of it was even worse. It was dealing with it that always stumped Wally. He doubted that anyone felt comfortable during an argument, but at least they had some idea of what to do. Wally would just stand there and hope that nothing would slip out of his mouth that would turn the argument against him. But was usually only if it was people he liked.

And as much as Nightwing was being a jerk right now, Wally did like him. He was okay to talk to, which was more than Wally could say for his mentor. Ex-mentor. Ex-partner. Whatever.

Arrow had once told him that his ex-sidekick kept on insisting he be referred to as 'ex-partner'. Wally hadn't understood what the big deal was. If anything, 'ex-partner' suggested a relationship that the tabloids would make a gourmet meal out of. But when he thought about it more, he started siding with Arrow's sidekick. Wally remembered Arrow laughing and shaking his head when he relayed the story, and it just seemed really patronising.

And Wally had seen patronising before. From Superman. From J'onn. From GL. It ticked him off to no end that they still saw him as a kid. Yeah, he realised that he didn't _act _like them, but who said that all superheroes have to act like Superman and Green Lantern? A guy could be a superhero and still enjoy himself.

At least the others would just tell him when he was doing something moronic, instead of that annoying 'it's just Flash being Flash' smile. Hawkgirl especially would cut him down whenever he did something stupid.

He scrunched up his face to stop his brain from moving in a direction he _really _didn't want to go down.

Flashing lights and wailing sirens on the horizon. Both he and Robin turned a bit too enthusiastically.

"Okay! Cops are here! What say we blow this Popsicle stand and get something to eat?"

Robin nodded his agreement, but Batgirl and Nightwing didn't move.

In protest, Wally's stomach rumbled loudly.

Using what he guessed (hoped) was tact, he walked over to Barbara and put an arm around her shoulder.

"Something to eat sound good, Barb?"

It wasn't tact.

Nightwing made a funny snorting noise before firing off a grapple line and disappearing through the roof window and out into Gotham.

Seeming equally ticked, Babs walked out of the warehouse, not sparing a glance at Wally.

Robin and Flash stood around in the warehouse for a moment, looking at the empty doorway she had left through.

Wally scratched his head. "So… was that _my_ fault?"

Slowly, Tim looked up at him. "Trust me. With them, it's always someone else's fault."

He fired off a grappling hook and left.

"Yes or a no, please," he announced to the empty warehouse. One of the thugs stirred from where he was tied with his comrades.

Wally decided to make himself feel better and assumed that was a 'no'.

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Dick couldn't make himself feel better. He had spent most of the night staring at the ceiling trying to justify his actions, but then gave up and tried to block it out.

Neither approach worked, surprisingly.

Eventually, he tried some training in the dojo to try and knock himself out of it.

Three hours later, he was aching, he was exhausted, but his brain was still running at full capacity.

He stared out the window for about twenty minutes before he went over to the phone and called her apartment.

No answer.

Well, it _was_ three in the morning. He left an awkward apology of a message, hung up, and went to the kitchen.

With the Lucky Charms down on the table, he went to get a bowl when he stopped. Acting on some strange impulse, Dick walked to his crumpled Nightwing costume and picked up the earpiece.

"Batgirl?"

"_Dick?"_

She sounded out of breath. And desperate.

"Are you okay?"

"_There's-"_

A dull thump noise interrupted her. Dick clenched his fist tighter around his ear.

"Barbara?"

Static.

"Barbara!"

There was a crunching noise, and the static ceased.

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Bad or Good, Please Review!


	5. Bad Fit

Disclaimer: I don't own _Justice League Unlimited._

_(A/N: Thanks to hhgbh for beta-ing.)  
_

_**New Shoes**_

_**Chapter Four: Bad Fit**_

Even while redirecting precisely twenty seven communiqués to different stations around the Watchtower, J'onn still managed to notice Batman's frequency.

Except Batman was otherwise occupied on another mission.

Curious, he pushed a button.

"Watchtower."

"_Um… hello?"_

A young voice. Most likely Robin. J'onn tried to ignore how much he sounded like his child.

"How can we help you?"

"_I… I was looking for Batman?"_

"Batman is occupied at the moment. Is it an emergency?"

"_Uh… kinda. I just want to talk to Batman."_

"I take it this is Robin."

"_I… yeah."_

"Is something wrong in Gotham? I can send others down to help you."

"_No, it's… y'know what, it's nothing. It's okay. When do you think Batman will get back?"_

"There's no way to be certain. It could be days."

A quiet curse that a thirteen year old shouldn't have known barely made it across the channel.

"Is there anyone else here you _could_ speak to?"

Robin paused for a moment. _"Is the Flash there?"_

J'onn paused. "Yes. I'll call him up here for you."

"_Thanks."_

After a few minutes of ineffectively trying to coax Flash away from his lunch, J'onn managed to get him to agree by telling him who was calling.

He still entered the command center with coffee in one hand and a burger in the other, but J'onn decided to fight each small battle one at a time. It was becoming somewhat of a chore to continually reprimand Wally for his behaviour.

The speedster flopped into a swivel chair and propped his feet up on the control panel. J'onn promptly brushed them off and pushed a button.

"Go ahead, Robin."

"_Okay…" _He paused for a moment. _"Flash?"_

"Yeah, buddy, what's up?"

"_Oh, I'm glad I found somebody. Nightwing's on his way over, but he said he was looking up some leads first, and-"_

"Whoa, whoa, slow down."

J'onn was silently amused at the irony, but continued working elsewhere.

Robin took some deep breaths. _"Okay. Batgirl's disappeared."_

Wally sprang out of his chair, dropping his burger on the floor and almost scalding himself with spilt coffee.

"She what?"

"_Batgirl. She was out on patrol last night, but didn't report in. And Nightwing says that he tried to talk to her earlier on, and it sounded like she was fighting someone, and he thinks that whoever it was had to be pretty tough, because Batgirl's pretty good, y'know?"_

"Yeah. I know. But he's got leads?"

"_Yeah, but I'm not sure how well they'll turn out. That's why I'm trying to get Batman, but some doofus said he was out on a mission."_

J'onn tucked 'doofus' away in the back of his mind to look up on Google later. He went over to Wally and pushed a button.

"Robin. This is J'onn J'onnz. I am going to send Flash down to help with your investigation into Batgirl's disappearance."

A grateful smile came from Wally, but J'onn's only response was a 'don't make me regret this' look.

"_You are? I mean… good, you are. Not that we couldn't handle this ourselves."_

In spite of the situation, Wally smiled. "I'll be down in a jiff, okay?"

"_Okay."_

With barely a nod in J'onn's direction, Flash ran to the teleporter and disappeared from view.

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Dick's motorcycle roared into the cave and came to a halt beside the Batmobile. It was strange, seeing what was a new car to him in place of what he had known. Bruce had barely just changed cars when Dick had left as Robin, so this one always seemed new to him.

He put his helmet on the front of the bike and made his way to the computer, where Robin was tapping away.

"Find anything?" they both asked.

"No," they both answered.

Dick sighed. "All of my leads in Gotham aren't as in the loop as I'd hoped."

An equally heavy sigh came from Robin. "There's nothing on the police computer system either. There's not even anything on the internet. No rumours, no gossip, nothing."

He walked over to the computer and paused at the inclusion of a chair next to Robin's.

"Bruce change the policy on the number of chairs in the Batcave?"

The Boy Wonder tried to keep on tapping at the computer, but it didn't work.

"Tim?"

The boy sighed and turned to him.

"Promise you won't get mad?"

"That depends on what you did."

A toilet flushed at the opposite end of the Batcave, followed by the sound of running water. Dick cocked an eyebrow at Tim, whose head was sinking further and further into his shoulders.

A door opened, and the Flash stepped out.

"Hoo-eee! Even the bathrooms in the _cave _are…" he made eye contact with Dick and paused. "…swanky." Cautiously, Flash raised a gloved hand.

"Uh… hi."

Dick didn't acknowledge him, instead going straight for Tim. "You invited _him _along?"

"Well… _we _weren't exactly turning up a hundred clues a minute!"

"That's why I told you to call Bruce. Not _him_."

Flash, now beside them both, stuck his head between them, looking at Dick and trying his best to stay his cheerful self.

"Come on! You could always just give me a shot. Despite popular belief, I'm not _that _bad at the super heroic stuff."

"And I'm sure the criminals in Central City are quaking in fear at the sound of your name." He turned to the computer and started tapping something in over Robin's shoulder. "But Gotham is a very different place."

Flash fought the scowl. "Then I guess it's a good thing you guys are here to help me out," he said, nodding at a very uncomfortable Robin.

"Batgirl-" Dick's frown deepened as he stood to his full height to look at him. The intimidation factor was limited since Flash was the same height as him. "_Barbara's _life could be in danger. We don't have time to be looking over our shoulders to make sure you're okay."

"I seemed to do okay last night, didn't I?"

Tim's head, which had been following the argument like a tennis match, turned back to Dick.

Nightwing didn't have an answer for that one.

Satisfied, Flash slipped into the chair beside Tim. "Okay then."

After a few minutes silence on the computer, Dick spoke.

"And have you two found anything?"

"Well, I only just got here a few minutes ago. Gimme a chance."

Dick looked at him like he was Two Face. "So do you have any _suggestions_?"

He shrugged and leaned forward in his chair. "You guys use earpieces like the League, right?"

Robin nodded. "Bruce made us use them after the League started. They make my ear hurt."

"Me too. Itchy and sweaty?"

"Yeah, and he never gets the right fit."

Dick cleared his throat.

The two looked at him.

"Sorry," Flash said. "Anyway, we can track the communicators from the Watchtower. Or we could in the old Watchtower, I don't know about the new one."

Tim sat forward. "You think Bruce has one on the computer?"

The speedster shrugged. "I guess. I dunno, it's just a suggestion," he said, shooting Nightwing a very quick look.

Nodding, the Boy Wonder got to work.

Dick crossed his arms. "Do you _really _think Bruce would have something to track _us _on his computer?" He realised how stupid he sounded as soon as he said it.

Both Robin and Flash looked at him and spoke at the same time like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yes."

After a few more minutes of tapping, Robin let loose an 'ah!' that drew both Dick and Flash's attention.

"You find it?" Flash asked.

Tim nodded. "But she's not transmitting."

"Yeah, well, you said she was fighting someone," he nodded at Dick, "so whoever it was probably destroyed it."

Now Dick leant forward, resting one hand on the back of Tim's oversized chair and the other on the control panel.

"Can you tell where she was last?"

A few more taps on the keyboard, and Tim smiled and nodded an affirmative, pointing at the screen.

"She was…" he frowned. "At the warehouse we busted?"

Dick turned and raced to his motorcycle as a red blur shot past him, the faint sound of Robin yelping in surprise going with it.

"See you there!"

His scowl deepened as he swatted away the kickstand with his foot and roared out of the cave.

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Flash whistled when he saw the mess, and Tim smiled. It was weird to be around someone older than him like Nightwing or Batgirl but who still acted like he was thirteen. It made him feel a bit more justified in his goofing around. He could only imagine Bruce's face when he landed that one on him.

"_Start taking this more seriously, Tim."_

"_But Flash doesn't!"_

_Cue Bat-glare._

"She sure put up a fight," the speedster continued, crouching and carefully inspecting broken pieces of crate. Tim thought it was a little weird how professional Flash was around a crime scene, but then again, he _was_ a superhero. Batman had probably drummed this kind of thing into him as soon as they were on the same team.

Most of the time Tim had serious trouble picturing Flash and his mentor in the same universe, let alone being on the same team, so the idea of Bruce tutoring him was almost completely out of Tim's mental spectrum.

"You find anything over there?"

Tim snapped himself awake. "Uh, not yet."

With nary a whisper, Nightwing landed behind Flash. The speedster idly turned around to shout something to Robin and almost leapt up into the rafters as he yelled in shock.

"Geez…" Flash thumped his chest. "Like father like son, huh?"

"He's not my father," Dick said quickly, getting to work inspecting the area.

Tim rolled his eyes.

_Could you be more of an ass, Nightwing? Please? Because you're nowhere near jerky enough yet._

Something shiny caught his eye, and he knelt down.

"Hey, I found something."

Flash zipped over and rested his hands on his knees as he looked down.

"Looks like her communicator," Tim said, pointing at it but not touching. "But it's crunched up pretty bad."

"Someone heavy…" Dick murmured, kneeling beside him. Flash adjusted position so his head was almost on the floor, looking side on at the communicator.

"Someone _flat_," he corrected.

They both looked at him.

"The communicator. It's been flattened into the ground perfectly. See? Usually when people step on stuff this hard it just breaks it. But this was squashed." He got to his feet and dusted himself off. "Know anybody with flat feet?"

Tim stroked his chin in a manner he though looked smart. "Killer Croc?"

"No, he's in the Maximum Security prison," Nightwing said, shaking his head. "I checked up on all our buddies after Batgirl disappeared. They're all accounted for, for once."

"But that's doesn't mean they couldn't have done this," Tim added.

Dick nodded, and Tim looked back down at the device embedded in the floor.

"Y'know… just because it's flat, doesn't mean it was a flat _foot_ that crushed it. They could have used a flat weapon like a hammer or…"

"No, the dust dispersal matches a foot more than anything else," Dick said quickly.

Flash stood between them with his arms folded.

"So? Who do you guys think it is? This Killer Croc guy?"

"Maybe. But he wouldn't think to look for an earpiece communicator. He would just kill her," Dick said, looking very uncomfortable with the thought.

"Anyone else? You guys fight any robots?"

The two Gotham Knights cocked a collective eyebrow and spared a glance at each other before looking at him.

"No. No robots," Tim said plainly.

"Oh. Okay. Well… should we talk to Croc, or what?"

Nightwing shook his head. "There's no point. Without Batman's good relations with the Commissioner to back us up, we'd have to breach security, question him, get out again…"

"Hey, I'm the Fastest Man Alive. I could get us in and out before you could blink."

"No."

"But-"

"I said no." Dick looked to Tim. "I don't want to give Gordon any more reason to get suspicious than we have to."

Solemnly, Tim nodded.

Flash raised a hand. "Gordon?"

"Commissioner Gordon," Tim corrected.

"Oh." Realisation struck. "Oh, _Gordon_… okay. All right, no questioning Croc. But, uh… what else do you want to do?"

Nightwing looked out the window. "Let's get back to the cave. Maybe we can find out what Batgirl was working on before she disappeared."

The speedster beside him nodded at Robin. "Boy Wonder here's already done it. Zip."

"Well, we'll just have to go over it again more thoroughly."

Flash's eyebrows rose beneath his mask, Tim could tell. He'd seen it before with people new to the Bat-family. First, it was surprise at the blunt rudeness. Then, annoyance at said rudeness. Then, explosive argument. Then things die down again.

Rinse, lather, and repeat.

But, for now, Flash would just grin and bear it. Because that's how the cycle went.

"Okay then. Let's mosey on back to the cave, shall we?"

He took a step forward when Tim jammed a hand out.

"Freeze."

Both of the older men stopped and stared at him. Flash looked down at his raised boot and, seeing the mud beneath it, took a step back.

"Clayface?" Nightwing asked himself, walking over to Tim as he collected the mud up into a sample bag.

"If it is, he's one heck of a miracle worker," Flash said, scratching his head. "We blew him up in Gotham Stadium a few months ago."

Tim looked up at him as he sealed the bag. "By 'we', you mean-"

"The League, yeah."

"That's right," Dick said, nodding. "I remember it from the news. It was Gorilla Grodd, Shade and some others."

"Right. So, if he did come after Batgirl…"

"He probably did it in tiny pieces," Robin finished, wanting to end the discussion.

Flash scratched his chin and looked at the sealed plastic bag as Tim put it in his belt.

"Can Clayface even make something that solid? I mean, I always thought he was-"

"He can make things seem pretty real when he wants to," Tim said quickly, going for the doorway. He looked over his shoulder at Flash. "Can we go now?"

Confused, the speedster looked to Nightwing for some enlightenment.

But he was already gone.

The Fastest Man Alive sighed and walked to the doorway.

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For the second time, the fluttering of batwings startled Wally awake. With sleepy blue eyes, he surveyed the cave.

The computer lit up the arguing forms of Robin and Nightwing. The way Robin had taken to Batman's chair made Wally wonder how easy it was to pry him away when the big man returned.

With a grunt of effort, he pushed himself up from where he was sat on the floor. For some odd reason, it felt warmer nearer the costumes.

Nightwing's barely hushed voice reached him first. "So you have no idea how to use the spectral analyser?"

Robin wasn't backing down. "Hey, _I'm _not the one who uses it. It's always Bruce and Barbara who do all the analysing and stuff."

"And Bruce never thought you would _need _to use it at some point?"

"He was teaching me, but other stuff kept us busy." He shrugged. "It wasn't a priority."

"Well, it is now."

"Look, if you think you can do it, go ahead!"

"I told you, I can't. Bruce has moved or replaced everything since I left."

"And that's my fault?"

Nightwing seemed ready to yell back, but then took a breath. "No, it's not. Sorry."

The Boy Wonder leant back in his chair. "It's okay."

"It's not okay. I'm just worried about Barbara."

"I know. But-" he stopped when he noticed Wally. "Oh, hey. Your power nap do anything for ya?"

"A little," Wally mumbled, his mouth feeling tacky. "I could use some food, though."

Robin smiled. "I'm not sure if we have enough food to feed you."

Feeling a little less uncomfortable in the cave, Wally smiled in return, then looked at the screen. "You having trouble with the mud?"

"Kinda," Robin said, turning back to look at the screen. "We don't know how to get the analyser to work."

Nightwing looked at him, eyebrow cocked. "Why? You think you can get it to work?"

"Hell no. I was just wondering what you wanted it testing for."

An obligatory glance was exchanged between the two Gotham Knights. Wally surmised that it must be a Bat thing.

"We… don't really know," Nightwing admitted. "We've never gone after Clayface like this before."

A sigh escaped Robin's lips. "Yeah. It's usually just 'when Clayface shows up, fight him'."

Wally nodded understandingly. "Well, you've sure got the right equipment for it," he said, looking at the table on his left overcrowded with beakers, test tubes and Bunsen burners. He was itching to see what kind of equipment a billionaire had at his disposal, and made a mental note to look at the table more thoroughly later.

"But without knowing what to look for, I'd just be wasting time."

Nightwing rubbed his eyes through his mask, and paused suddenly. "Barbara's computer."

Robin looked at him. "What?"

"At the police station."

Though Wally thought it impossible, Robin's face brightened even more. "Yeah… we might find something on it."

"But, uh…" Wally managed, pointing at the sample of mud in the machine next to the computer.

"We'll keep on trying to analyse it, but in case nothing comes up on that end, Barbara's computer is our next best bet."

After processing the information, Flash switched to happy mode. "Okay then! Since the police station won't be open until tomorrow, let's get something to eat, shall we?"

Robin seemed ready to object, but Nightwing shot him down. "No, he's right. We don't want Gordon thinking there's anything wrong. Not unless we have to."

Flash, still with his happy face, watched the exchange intently before point to the stairs.

"Hey, do I need to change before I go wandering around the estate?"

For what seemed the hundredth time since his arrival, Robin and Nightwing exchanged a glance before looking at him like they didn't know if he was for real.

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	6. Differences

Disclaimer: I don't own _Justice League Unlimited._

(Thanks to Hhgbh for beta duties – you're the best, man!)

_**New Shoes**_

_**Chapter Five: Differences**_

While being led around the Gotham police station, Wally realised what the difference was between Batman's police and his own.

It was the air conditioning. Wally's was quiet, invisible, comforting. The Gotham PD relied on rickety ceiling fans that were loud, intrusive and almost frightening to be around. Sometimes they spun so wildly Wally thought he'd have to duck a loose fan blade.

"Rosebud? Why would her password be Rosebud?"

Flash's pale blue eyes wandered back to the two Bats scrunched uncomfortably around Barbara's small computer.

"It's from a movie," Dick answered plainly, keeping his eyes on the screen.

Tim stopped typing and rolled his eyes. "I know it's from a movie. But does Barbara even _like _it?"

"Yes, she does. We went to see it once, and she liked it."

Wally tried not to slip from where he was perched on the desk _too _much.

"You, uh… what?"

The look he got from Tim and the way Dick intently ignored him told Wally not to continue for now. Feeling increasingly frustrated, Flash turned back around, crossing his arms in a way he hoped didn't look too huffy.

Why would Barbara even put anything about this case on her computer? Wally thought Bruce was super careful about his identity, and that included all his sidekicks, wards, partners, and whatever the hell Nightwing wanted to be called.

Wally also didn't get why Nightwing was being particularly jerky to him, and Tim being all secretive wasn't helping. Flash realised he had been taking his time away from the League for granted. When he asked Aunt Iris or Uncle Barry something, they would just tell him. There was none of this 'You don't need to know' or 'If I ignore you, that could mean yes or no'.

Wally wondered if that made them too complicated or him too simple.

The computer made a ding of protest.

"See. Told ya it wasn't something dumb like Rosebud."

Dick scowled, and it somehow looked worse without the domino mask. He scratched his cheek.

"Well, we know the passwords were changed recently."

"In the past few days," Tim corrected. "According to the Bat-computer."

"So it'd have to be something that happened to her recently."

Wally pried his eyes off an attractive black haired lady detective that had just taken a seat.

"Try pancake syrup."

There was that 'why the hell is he still here?' look again. Tim broke it off first with a shrug, and typed it in. Dick continued giving Wally the look until Tim made a noise halfway between satisfaction and surprise.

"Pancake syrup it is," he said, sharing a smile with Wally that promptly vanished when he saw the look on Dick's face. "I'll just get to work, then…"

The awkwardness that had never really gone away came back with full force, and Wally ejected himself from the table.

"I'll uh, go and get something to drink. You guys want anything? Water? Coffee? Tea? No? Okay."

As fast as he could manage without knocking over chairs and tables, Wally crossed the room over to a drinks table in the corner of the room, immediately pouring himself a coffee and rapidly tossing his sugars in.

"Whoa, slow down kid! Save some of it for me."

Wally looked over at the overweight cop beside him. "Uh… sorry."

He shrugged, taking another bite of his donut. "Whatever."

The sight of the confectionary caught Wally's attention. "Hey… where'd you get the donut?"

The guy turned around a little bit more to reveal a pink box of a dozen donuts. Three were already missing.

Wally devoured the sight of them but remembered where he was. "Do you mind if I…?"

A troubled look crossed his face, and he guy looked from Wally to the box and back again. He sighed.

"Yeah, sure kid. But just take one, you got me?"

He might as well have been consigning Wally to a death sentence.

"Okay," he sighed, disappointedly.

As he chewed and sipped at his two snacks, Wally tried to ignore the way the guy was studying him and instead distracted himself by trying to see the attractive black haired detective lady without looking like has trying to.

"Who are you, anyway?"

Although annoyed, Wally smiled. "Sorry. I'm Wally West. I'm... a friend of Barbara's."

"Oh, so _you're _the new boyfriend. The Commish said Babs was all excited over somebody."

His smile became genuine. "She was?"

"Yeah." He extended a hand. "Name's Harvey Bullock, kid. Nice to meet you."

Wally took it, and he struggled to stop his smile when he realised Bullock was trying to squeeze it.

"Just treat her right, y'hear?"

"I'll try," he said, his reasons for being here in the first place crashing back down on him.

_Hell of a job you're doing so far, Wally._

"So what are you doin' here?"

"I… came here to meet Barbara."

"She ain't here. She's at home sick."

Courtesy of Batman contingency plan #625.

"Oh darn," Wally said, snapping his fingers. "Ah, well. At least I got to see the workplace."

Bullock eyed him. "…I think you've got to cut down your sugar intake, kid," he said, making himself a paper cup of coffee.

"Look who's talking," Wally muttered, looking away. It was nasty and cruel and he knew it, but something about hanging around with the Bat-club made him more irritable. Barbara being the exception, of course.

"Huh?" the detective cluelessly replied, his mouth blocked by a donut.

"Bullock! We gotta go."

He glanced over at attractive black haired detective lady. "Coming, coming. Geez Montoya, you could give a guy a chance to have his lunch."

She tossed him his coat with an expression that said she'd done it too many times before but still enjoyed it anyway.

"You've already had lunch."

"So I'm having a post-lunch snack, sue me."

Their banter continued as they left the room, and Wally felt a little bit of an ache. A few really short months ago that had been him and GL, arguing and yelling at each other but not really meaning it and actually kind of enjoying it and God he missed the League sometimes.

Much to his dismay, Wally had left his donut dipped in his coffee for too long and it had all become one warm slushy mess. With a grimace, he put it back and strolled back over to Barbara's desk.

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Dick watched Wally go over to the coffee table before returning his attention to the computer.

"Anything?"

"Not yet." Tim kept on typing for a moment. "You could be a little easier on the guy."

"What?"

"You're being a jerk."

"No I'm not. We just don't need his help."

Tim clicked something, and the computer crackled away.

"What're you doing?"

"Searching for the most recent entries." He turned in the chair to face Dick. "So you're saying that if the League had sent Green Arrow you'd be a jerk to him?"

"I'm not being a jerk. And besides, we know Green Arrow."

"Geez…" Tim rolled his eyes. "Okay, someone we don't know. Green Lantern."

"What's with all the green heroes?"

"Could you not avoid the question?"

Irritated, Dick crossed his arms and sat against the desk, hoping he didn't look too huffy. He thought he saw amusement cross Tim's features, but it was gone so quickly he didn't bring it up.

"This guy is a clown. Bruce said so, Wonder Woman said so-"

"Barbara didn't say so."

He shot him a dirty look. "She'll learn."

Looking strangely thoughtful, Tim looked back to the monitor. "It's funny."

Although he didn't want to, Dick replied. "What is?"

"Alfred told me that back in the day you'd goof off all the time."

"And look what it got me."

"Yeah, you had fun. The horror. You can do what we do and still have fun, you know."

Dick turned away from him, watching as Montoya and Bullock left the room. "You don't get respect acting like an idiot, Tim."

An exasperated sigh was the only response.

"Hey guys," Flash said, hands firmly in pockets. "Got anything?"

"I'm going through the search results now," Tim said, already clicking and tapping away.

Without another word, West went around the table and opened a drawer, looking inside. Dick closed it.

"What do you think you're doing?"

With an annoyance in his eyes Dick hadn't seen before, West pulled out his wallet and pointed to the badge.

"Hey, would you look at that?" he said, amazed. "Crime Scene Investigations." He quickly clapped the wallet shut, put it away, and get back to looking through Barbara's desk.

Dick took the other side, going by a gut feeling more than anything else. He barely heard Tim's sigh as he raced through the contents of the drawers, determined to find something.

They both managed to reach the top of the desk at the same time.

Tim smiled at the computer. "Who won?"

After shooting Tim a scowl he knew would only make him smirk, Dick stood up and leant over the desk, looking at the monitor.

"Find anything?"

"No," he said, sounding tired. "Back to the cave, I guess."

West stood up to his full height, stretching. "Guess we could always try the Bat computer again."

"We've already done that."

"No harm doing it again though, right?"

"Yeah. No harm at all," Tim nodded, looking at Dick the entire time.

The former Robin's scowl didn't fade the entire trip home.

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Wally was lost. It wasn't his fault; Wayne Manor was a big place, and he didn't want to speed around for fear of knocking over some priceless vase. Most of the people in this house either found him tolerable, annoying or just downright hated him as it was; he didn't need to add anything else to the list.

A door on his right looked familiar, and he pushed through, entering the kitchen. The smell of something warm and delicious wafted up his nose and he couldn't help but smile. He hadn't smelt something that good since Superman had invited everyone around to his folks' in Smallville.

"May I help you, Master West?"

He would have jumped if he hadn't been surrounded by freakily quiet heroes who liked to sneak up on people for two days straight.

Alfred effortlessly went around him, moving around the kitchen as though he had been born there.

Wally had never felt more in the way. Well, except for when John and Hawkgirl were fighting, but that was-

He frowned and tucked the thought away.

"Uh, yeah. I was kinda…" he sighed. "I'm lost."

The smile that touch Alfred's lips made Wally feel not all that stupid.

"Yes, many of our guests make similar comments," he said, continuously doing about a hundred things around the room. Chopping, stirring, tasting, mixing, kneading…

His stomach grumbled loudly.

"My word."

Wally grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. I've kinda got a big appetite."

"Yes, I remember the rather rapid job you made of the breakfast I set out for you when-" he stopped himself. "Well. I remember it."

"Yeah."

Alfred paused in his working, and Wally could have sworn he heard a sigh. Feeling awkward enough at that point, he decided to opt for the nearest exit.

"So, yeah, how do I get to the Batcave?"

"Out that door and behind the grandfather clock around the corner."

"Okay. Thanks, Jeeves." He turned to go.

"I remember that Master Dick had the hardest time finding his way around the Manor when he first arrived."

Wally snorted. "What, Mister Perfect?"

He didn't seem to hear the comment. "And no matter how hopelessly lost he was, he refused to ask for help. He became so angry when anyone offered," he said, a smile in his voice. "Master Bruce always put it down to stubbornness. So did I, for a while. But then, on a quiet, cold night, Master Dick told me that he was afraid of showing that he was lost. Because then Master Bruce wouldn't think him worthy enough of fighting alongside him."

A frown creased Wally's brow. "Okay… are you trying to make a point?"

"Not at all, sir. I was merely pointing out that Master Dick often seems at his angriest and most stubborn when he is frightened."

"…right. Uh, thanks for that."

"No trouble at all, Master West."

Now feeling awkward, out of place _and _confused, Wally made his way out of the kitchen and towards the grandfather clock around the corner.

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The training laser post clanged as Dick delivered a kick to its side far more viciously than he needed to.

"You'll break it," Tim said, his voice echoing from the computer.

"Would you stop-" he ducked one laser and leapt over another. "-mother henning me? Now who's acting like Batman?"

"Oh, now that's just cruel."

"You're wrong anyway."

"About what?"

A laser blazed past his ear. "About Flash."

"What about him?"

"I'm not being a jerk to him." He slugged another post.

A snort somehow made its way over to Dick.

"Yeah, okay, whatever."

"I'm not!"

"You're just mad because he has fun and you don't."

"What?!" he said, turning. A laser hit him dead center in the back, and he fell to the ground. Sensing that their target was faltering, the rest of the laser posts fired away at him, knocking him around the training area before he could respond.

Suddenly, they cut out.

"You okay?"

Tim was beside him, pulling him to his feet.

Wait, not Tim.

"Nightwing?"

_Oh, great. Way to look stupid in front of the clown, Dick._

Irritably, Dick waved a dismissive hand and forced himself to his feet, ignoring Flash's concerned look.

"That's a pretty nasty playground you got there," he said, his hands on his hips.

"It's not a playground. It's a training course." He limped up the stairs towards the computer where Tim was working.

Flash followed him. "Yeah, well, whatever. It's just a good thing Bats made the control panel simple."

"You're right about that," he muttered, reaching the top of the stairs and grabbing a towel from a table on his right.

Either West didn't hear him or didn't care. "Why were you putting yourself through that, anyway?"

"To keep in shape. _Some _of us have to work to stay alive out there."

Flash stopped behind him.

"Nightwing… can I talk to you for a sec?"

Dick turned to Tim across the room. "Find anything yet?"

"Not yet. I got it working, but it's still analysing the sample."

"Nightwing?"

"What?" Dick sighed, facing him.

The sheepish, almost embarrassed look on West's face reminded Dick of Tim. And himself, but younger.

_He has fun and you don't._

"Look… I just wanted to say… I don't know what I've done to get you so ticked off at me- well, I've got an_ idea_, but I don't know if it's right, but anyway, I uh… I'm sorry. I mean, we were getting along okay at the party before, right? And I just thought… y'know, if we could get back to how we were then we'd work together better. Yeah?"

And suddenly, Dick felt like a jerk.

He took a breath. "Flash-"

"Got something!"

To his surprise, Flash was at the control panel before him. "What?"

"It came from the docks," Tim said, sitting back in his chair somewhat smugly.

The speedster looked from Tim to the screen a few times. "It… did?"

"Yeah."

"And you can tell that just by looking at it?"

"Uh huh."

Flash exhaled through pursed lips, looking impressed. "Bats knows his stuff…"

"Which dock?" Dick asked.

"Oil levels are lower than at most docks."

"So it's from number fourteen to eighteen."

"Nineteen. They built a new one."

Dick nodded. "So it's Penguin."

"We have a winner, folks."

A scarlet hand shot up in the air. "Um… excuse me, but… what?"

Tim smiled, and was about to explain when Dick butted in.

"Penguin owns a nightclub, the Iceberg Lounge. It uses dock fifteen for its deliveries."

"Oh." He nodded. "Right."

They were all silent for barely a second before Flash disappeared, a red blur heading out of the cave on the runway.

Dick looked down at Tim. "See? I am getting better."

"How'd you figure?"

"I didn't yell at him to stop."

"You're gonna yell at him when we catch up to him, though."

"One step at a time."

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About ten minutes after leaving the cave, Wally had found the place and slunk in through an air vent rather than vibrating through a wall and blowing it up. Explosions weren't exactly stealthy.

It was dark inside. Not so dark he couldn't see where he was going, but dark enough that all the shadows would have given him nightmares when he was six.

But even in the dark, quality spoke for itself.

"Swanky…"

He walked by the pool, and the seals stirred, disturbed by the out of place red figure wandering aimlessly around their home.

The lights flashed on.

"Well. It seems I have a visitor."

Wally turned, and a small portly guy that he assumed was the Penguin stood at the top of the stairs, a Tommy gun firmly clasped at his side and pointed straight at him. Others came from around the room, their weapons trained on him.

Tommy guns. Not semi-automatic explosive machines of destruction, but Tommy guns. With trilbies, well pressed suits and trench coats.

God, this city was cool.

"And not at all whom I expected. Flash, is it?"

"Fastest Man Alive," he said, leaning against the rail of the seal pool.

"Indeed. And to what do I owe your gracious presence?"

"Got a few questions for you."

"I thought as much. But I'm sure such questions could wait until opening hours."

"Which is when?"

"We are open from seven onwards. But I'm afraid I'd rather you not come back here."

"Oh, but why? I'm such great company."

"Of that I am most certain. But you people tend to run in packs, so I'd rather be rid of you before Superman, Wonder Woman and the rest of the Batman League decide to smash, splatter and scatter my business."

"Nice alliteration."

"Leave now."

"Sorry Pengy. Got business to discuss."

Penguin cocked an eyebrow. "'Pengy'?"

"What? Does Bats not use nicknames?"

The eyebrow rose higher. "'Bats'?"

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"_You could slow down a bit, y'know. It __**is **__raining."_

Tim's voice barely registered over the static.

Dick chanced a glance over his shoulder and found that he had lost Tim. He throttled back and slowed down his motorcycle a little to let Tim catch up.

"He doesn't know what he's getting into."

"_He fights alien monsters and giant robots all the time. He'll be okay with a few gangsters."_

"So? That just means he'll be underestimating them."

"_I think you're underestimating __**him**__."_

They collectively skid around the corner and came up to the Iceberg Lounge.

"And what makes you think-"

A man flew out of the front entrance and into the road, and Dick swerved to avoid him. Tim pulled up beside him and slipped off his helmet before running inside.

"You were saying?" he said as he passed.

Resisting the urge to do his best Muttley impression, Dick followed.

The place, surprisingly enough, wasn't completely and totally destroyed. All of Penguins 'employees' had been spread to all four corners of the dance floor and upper levels, and the big man himself conspicuously missing, but nothing too horrific.

"Talk, dude. My arms are getting tired."

"Oh, I'm scared. What are you gonna do, drop me?"

Dick and Tim looked up to one of the upper levels and saw Flash dangling one of Penguin's erstwhile thugs off the rail by his legs.

"Okay, fine. I'm gonna drop you though."

"Go ahead, sparky."

Looking pretty uncomfortable, Flash let go, and the guy went tumbling. A split second later, Flash was below him and caught him before he hit the ground.

He smirked. "Oh, yeah, you know your stuff."

Flash looked over to Tim and Dick. "Oh, guys." He dropped the thug ungraciously to the floor. "Don't worry, I got it."

"What about him?" Dick asked, nodding towards him.

"Uh… I'm having some trouble getting information out of him."

"What have you asked him?"

"If he knows about anything weird happening down at the docks?"

"And what have you threatened him with?" Tim asked, sounding more professional than ever before.

"Uh… dropping him?"

Dick patted him on the shoulder as he walked over to the moustached thug, who had clambered to his feet in the meanwhile and tried to make a hasty exit. A batarang to the back of his leg from Dick quickly dropped him to the floor.

Irritably, the thug scowled up at him. "What is this? Kids night?"

Without a word, Dick hauled him to his feet and smashed his fist into Moustache's nose, breaking it and knocking him down again.

Behind him, he heard Flash hiss in sympathy.

Ignoring him and resisting the urge to smile, Dick once again pulled his quarry to his feet and slammed him face first into the wall.

"Now. What say you and I have a little chat outside?"

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Flash and Robin waited outside, sat on the curb.

"Okay. So I get why Batman has a boat. But why does he need a motorcycle _and _a badass car?"

"Because… he's Batman."

"Oh, come on! That's been your answer for like the past ten questions."

Nightwing walked out.

"What you got?" Robin asked, bouncing to his feet.

"He said that Rupert Thorne has been using dock fifteen for his smuggling deals and giving Penguin twenty five percent of the gross. They've been doing it since that Batwoman mess."

Confusion reigned supreme over Wally as he got to his feet. "Bat…_woman_?"

Tim shrugged. "Well… Bat_women_, technically. She was three people."

"At the _same time?_" He thought for a moment. "Wouldn't that have been uncomfortable?"

Although he couldn't see, Wally was sure Nightwing was rolling his eyes.

"_Anyway…_ Penguin rarely uses dock fifteen for legitimate deliveries, so Thorne's our most likely suspect."

Wally nodded. "And where does he-"

Nightwing pointed a rude finger in his face. "No."

"What? I was just-"

"No. We're doing this the subtle way."

Tim cocked an eyebrow. "Doing what?"

"The guy said that Thorne has extended an invitation to any of the Penguin's goons to work for him and make some money on the side. He gave me the name of a bar on 5th and Kane. So I figure I go in undercover and-"

"Undercover?" Flash said, his face lighting up. "Like cool gangster names? And well pressed suits and thick Mafia accents?"

Grayson scowled at him while Tim just shook his head.

"You're not coming."

"What? Aw, c'mon. You'll need someone looking out for you, and you can't take Robin. Batman's away, and I don't think Jeeves would fit in there."

Tim shrugged. "He's got a point."

His arms folded, Nightwing bowed his head in defeat. "I know."

Wally grinned. "All right! Now, I'm thinking something like Slowpoke Sam, since, y'know, I'm so fast. It's ironic."

"Uh huh."

"And maybe a moustache. I mean, I know it's hard to match the colour of my hair, but I think it'd be worth it. A big moustache too, nothing small."

"Uh huh."

Nightwing and Tim meandered back to their motorcycles and sped away, Flash running alongside them.

"This is gonna be so cool."

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(A/N: Thanks for all your reviews, everyone! Keep them coming!)


	7. Answers and Questions

Disclaimer: I don't own _Justice League Unlimited._

_**New Shoes**_

_**Chapter Six: Answers and Questions**_

Dick stopped outside the bar and put his arm out, stopping West in his tracks.

"Now. What did we talk about?"

"No drawing attention to ourselves. I got it."

"And what is your name?"

He sighed. "Mark Malone, nephew of Matches Malone," he said, drawing out every word.

"And who am _I?"_

"Trevor Malone, _son _of Mark Malone."

"And why are we looking for work?"

"Because your dad, who is my uncle, is sick. Oh! Oh! And Penguin doesn't pay enough for the operation."

"Good. And what is _not _your name?"

West sighed. "Slowpoke Sid, Charming Charlie, Dashing Dan, Spacker Dave, Harry 'The Cat' Harvey, and Pete the Pillow Guy."

"Pete the… Pillow Guy."

He shrugged. "I only just made it up."

Dick stared. "Right."

"So what is this place?" Flash replied, nodding up at the buzzing sign above them.

"The Manor," he said, heading for the door. He looked back. "It's a… ironic title."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Just… do me a favour?"

An incredibly forced smile made its way onto Flash's face. "Shoot."

"Don't draw attention to yourself? Just follow my lead."

"Okay. Got it."

After a brief pointed stare (which West completely ignored), Dick went inside as inconspicuously as he could. Head kept down. Eyes on the bar.

"Hey. How's it goin?"

Icy blue eyes wandered over to the disguised Flash, who had walked in with head held high and winks for seemingly all the patrons of the bar.

"Nice hat."

West quickly overtook him and slid onto a stool at the bar, knocking on it with his fist to attract the bartender.

"Barkeep. G and T, on the rocks."

The bartender paused for a moment before simply nodding at getting said drink.

Dick whipped into the stool beside him.

"Do you even _listen _when people talk, or is it all just… white noise?"

His drinks arrived, and West took it, giving the bartender a nod of thanks. He noticed the bartender's expectant gaze.

"Oh. It's on him," he said, nodding at Dick before taking a sip of his drink. "Mmm." He smacked his lips a few times. "Tangy."

"What'll you have, Mac?" the bartender asked.

Dick's voice rose. "I-" He stopped himself and looked around. Some of the patrons were looking at him out of the corner of their eyes. Looking at _them_.

Dick looked over at Flash, who was inspecting a coaster.

Looking at _him_.

"The same," he sighed.

When the bartender left, Dick grabbed West on the arm as gently as he could. "What part of 'don't draw attention to yourself' did you _not _understand?"

West shrugged. "It didn't seem important."

"Not-" he glanced around again to make sure he wasn't heard. "Have _you _done undercover work before?"

"I might have."

"Have you?"

"…no. But I might have. I don't like how you just assume this stuff."

"Well, you're not exactly making a good impression on me by making an ass out of yourself in front of the people we're trying to blend in with!" he hissed, calming himself as his drink arrived and shoving the money into the bartender's hand a little more violently than was necessary.

The two ignored each other for a few minutes.

After one last idle look around the room, West glanced over him over the straw he had since put in his drink.

"So… what do we do?"

"First we wait. _Blend in_," he said pointedly. West's face didn't change at the tone of voice.

"…and then?"

"_Then _we talk to a few of them. Make out like we're from Penguin's gang, and wait for someone to make an offer."

"Couldn't we just ask straight off the bat?"

Dick stared at him. "No."

"Why not? Thorne's looking for people to work for him. I don't get why we have to be all sneaky about it."

"Because that's the way these people do things."

He took a sip of his drink. "Whatever." The straw made a gurgling noise as it sucked on ice. "So what do I do?"

"Nothing. I'll do the talking."

"Then why am I here?"

"Because coming by myself wasn't a good idea, and I couldn't exactly bring Tim or Alfred, could I?"

"So… you want me to just sit here."

"No. Stand behind me or sit with me while I talk to them. You'll stick out too much sitting around by yourself."

"Just… stand there."

"Yeah. Look menacing."

"Ah, the strong silent thing."

Dick snapped his fingers and pointed at him. "Exactly. Now you're getting it."

"This sounds like a sucky job."

"It's fine."

West smiled. "Y'know, this reminds me of school. I'd always get to be the loser character in whatever game we played. If we played Transformers, I was the human dude, if we played Power Rangers, I was always Alpha-"

Dick put up a hand. "Stop. What are you talking about?"

"School. Y'know, when you get picked last for… some… thing…" he paused. "I should be getting some practice on the 'strong silent' thing, shouldn't I?" he said quietly.

"A little bit, yeah."

"Okay," he sighed.

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It felt like hours until Nightwing heaved himself up from his stool without warning and started to mingle. Well, maybe mingle was the wrong word. Usually he would just stand around behind two people having a conversation until they noticed him.

From where he stood, Wally couldn't tell what the ex-Boy Wonder was saying to them, but he was sure it was something that his tiny speedster mind couldn't understand. If they weren't undercover, he would so throw a peanut at Nightwing's head as fast as he could. Sure, it could give him a concussion. Maybe he'd suffer memory loss and forget whatever it is that was making him hate Wally so much.

As it was, he just stood around with his arms folded, shooting what he hoped was a menacing Batman-esque glare to anyone who looked at him. He wondered if he looked nasty in his fake brown hair and beard. The idea of being anything but an obscenely bright red head had never popped into his head. Well, not since he left high school and the carrot top jokes stopped.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned. There was a big guy and a small guy stood before him. Wally hoped to god the big guy was called Tiny.

"Hey. You the guy asking about Thorne's gang?"

_Don't talk. You're not allowed to talk._

He pointed over his shoulder at Nightwing, who was deep in conversation with someone else.

"Uh…"

"What? Is he the guy?"

Wally shook his head. "Uh… I uh…"

"What's going on, cuz?" Nightwing said, getting up from the table and walking over. He stepped between Wally and the small guy.

"Don't mind him. He's not quite right up here, y'know?" he said, putting two fingers to his head.

While that particular explanation didn't fit into Wally's concept of 'good idea', he left it alone and just settled for scowling menacingly again.

"Then why d'you keep him around?" the big guy said, leaning in over him.

"He's got crazy fighting skills. He'll go nuts if anyone even touches me."

Small guy smiled. "And you bring him to a bar?"

Nightwing shrugged. "He's family."

They both seemed to approve of the idea. "So. You two interested in working for Thorne's gang on the side, huh?"

"That's right."

"What's wrong with Penguin?"

"Nothin'. He just ain't payin' enough for my old man's operation."

"Your old man's sick?"

"Yeah. I don't know the name of it. Something-itis, I think."

The two thugs conferred for a moment. They turned back, the little one smiling in a way that would have made Wally creep out if he wasn't the Fastest Man Alive. Hell, even then he wanted to run the hell out of the guy's line of sight.

"Okay, fellas. Just come out back and we'll discuss the details."

Wally fought the smile and followed them, Nightwing going out the backdoor first.

As soon as came through the doorway, he felt himself being lifted up and slammed against the wall on the other side of the dark alleyway. Wally looked over and saw Nightwing pinned to the wall by the big guy, same as him.

The little guy closed the door.

"Okay. Now you two are gonna tell me who the hell you _really _are, because you sure ain't one of the Penguin's goons."

Nightwing looked over at Wally. "Well, so much for that," he sighed.

They both kicked out into the big guy's belly, Wally's superspeed kick making a satisfying 'whump' noise as it connected.

Big stumbled back, dropping both of them. Nightwing leapt at Little before he had a chance to reach for his gun, knocking him out with one blow.

Wally created a cyclone around Big, sucking the air away from him and dropping him to the ground.

He looked over at Nightwing and gave him a wink with a thumbs up.

"Is he conscious?"

Wally looked down at Big and kicked him a few times. "Nope. Yours?"

"No… I thought _you _would leave yours awake so we would have someone to question."

"So it's my fault, huh? Shocker!"

Nightwing scoffed. "Yeah, because what we need right now is to have an insult match." He looked down at the two unconscious forms around them. "We need someone to question, and we can't just wait for them to wake up before someone starts getting suspicious."

"We don't need to question them," Wally said tiredly, kneeling beside Big and rummaging around in his pockets. He pulled out a cell phone with a satisfied 'ah' noise. "See?"

"His cell phone? So what? The computer can't trace cell phone signals unless we have the-"

Wally groaned and shook his head. "No, I'm not talking about tracing it. We just wait for Thorne or whoever to call, and then we act like we're these guys. We ask the guy on the other side where to go, and voila."

"That's incredibly stupid."

Flash scowled and turned away. "Fine, do it your way." He scooped up the little guy and slung him over his shoulder. "I'm gonna take these guys to the police station, and then-"

"Wait." Nightwing stuck out a hand. "Don't take them to the police station. Thorne's bound to have moles there, and if he finds out they're in custody…" he looked down, scratching the back of his neck. "Then we won't be able to use your plan…" he mumbled.

Wally grinned. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said… we won't be able to…"

"Yyyeeees?"

"…use your plan."

"Ha! Which means you're going with a stupid Flash plan!"

Nightwing visibly ground his jaw. "Anyway… we'll drop them off somewhere in the outer limits of the City with an extra dose of tranquiliser. They'll be out for half a day, at least."

Wally nodded, excited. "Rock on."

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The cave was boring. It had taken Dick a few months of being Batman's sidekick to realise it, but it was. There was nothing particularly colourful in there (besides the Robin costume), there was that dull thrum of the power generators that always seemed to discourage any kind of fun, different noise.

And it sounded like Flash concurred. At this moment in time, he was sat at the bottom of the steps at the entrance to the cave, doing something with an elastic band between his hands that looked far too complicated for the speedster's mental capacity.

Dick was sat at the Bat computer, having taken to staring at the cell phones where they sat on a speaker cradle.

No calls, no messages, nothing. On either phone.

They were both back in costume, and Dick couldn't be happier with that. Fake stubble was itchy.

Flash groaned. "_Again? _Oh, come on…"

Although he was curious, Dick resisted the temptation to ask. He wanted to avoid any discussion with the speedster where at all possible.

Silence descended.

"Hey… Nightwing?"

Dick sighed. So close.

"Yeah?"

"What was it like being a sidekick?"

He turned to look at the speedster, who was lying back on the steps with his hands behind his head and looking up at the ceiling.

"What?"

"Or partner, or… associate, or whatever. What's it like?"

"It's…" he frowned. "It's fine."

"It's _fine_? Batman's your father figure since you're eight and it's _fine? _Pshyeah, right."

Dick whipped back around on the chair to face the computer. "It's none of your business, all right? Can we just drop it?"

"All right, okay," West replied, putting up his hands defensively.

More silence.

"So… you don't want to talk about Batman. Okay. I can understand that. Tell you what. How about we talk about something we both know." He was quiet for a moment, and Dick was tempted to turn to look at him.

"What have you got against me?"

The thrum of the generator suddenly didn't seem loud enough.

"I… haven't got anything against you."

"Oh, course not. You just act like a major jerk around me because of childhood issues." He paused. "Is it because of Barbara? Because you didn't seem too taken with her at the party before, so-"

"It's not Barbara."

"Then what is it, dude? Besides Barbara, I haven't done anything to you!"

He closed his eyes, his head bowed and his fists clenched. Slowly, he swung around in the chair to face West from across the room.

"Okay. You want to do this? Fine." He stared at him. "You're a clown. You got into this for fun. You treat the whole thing like one big joke. And why wouldn't you?" he asked loudly. "You're the Fastest Man Alive. By the time anything could go wrong, you're just _that _fast enough to correct the mistake before anything bad happens."

He started tapping the control panel where his arm was resting. "But Barbara and Tim? They don't have super strength or speed or whatever. They can't afford to treat this like a joke, and that's exactly what you're encouraging them to do. They make one mistake – _one_ – and they're dead." He turned back to the computer. "For all we know, Barbara might already _be _dead," he said quietly.

No reply, at first.

"She's not dead."

"How do you know?"

"I just know. You do too."

Dick rubbed his eyes through the opaque lenses. West was right. He could feel it. In his bones, his veins, his heart. She was alive, somewhere.

"And I didn't get into this for the fun."

A snort escaped him. "Yeah. You did."

"No. That's a big part of it, yeah, but that's not why I got into it, and that's not why I stay in it." He took a breath. "Not that this is any of _your _business, but I know a lot of people who have problems that can't be solved by someone swooping in and beating up the bad guys. And those kind of people need someone they can go to. So yeah, I smile a lot, I goof off… and yeah, some of that is just the fact that I love what I can do. But the rest is so that people who have problems, so that kids who are afraid of people that they should _never-"_ his voice rose a little, and he stopped for a moment.

"They can come to me, without thinking I'm some pompous, hands-on-hips jackass who's above them. So next time," he said, shifting on the steps so he was facing away from him, "think about this stuff before you go mouthing off."

Silence once more consumed them.

Dick looked to the computer screen for a moment, before turning the chair around to face him.

"Sorry."

The speedster shrugged imperceptibly. "S'all right."

More silence.

"Not pompous, huh?"

West paused. "That's right."

Dick smiled and cocked an eyebrow. "This coming from the guy who has a museum?"

Slowly, Flash turned over to face him. A smile cracked out. Only a few small laughs escaped before his grin returned.

A more solemn look came over Dick. "I _am _sorry."

West… No, _Wally_ shrugged. "Nah, it's okay."

Dick looked over to the computer once more, and then back to Wally.

"You like playing X-Box?"

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Lasers flashed by, barely skimming Dick's head. In a daring move, he tried to dive to the right-

And died. Gone in a flash of light, with nothing left behind but a puff of smoke.

"Ha! Told ya!"

Wally's smirk disappeared when he was decapitated by a flying saw blade.

A similar smile adorning his features, Dick smirked and leant in. "Ha. Ha."

"That's just because you died. What difficulty is this on?" The speedster used the control pad to thumb through the options.

Dick's smile grew when he saw it was on 3 of a possible 10.

"It's broken, that's the problem." Wally hit it once, and then pressed the reset button. "Now let's try that again."

As they waited for it to load, Dick readjusted how he was sat on the chair in front of the Bat computer screen.

"So hey… you know Bats pretty well, right?"

"Well… yeah, you tend to know the guy who adopted you and raised you as his own."

Wally missed the sarcastic tone. "Right, so… what does it mean when he's all quiet?"

"You mean he's not usually quiet around the League?"

"Oh, he's quiet, I mean…" He exhaled through his nose thoughtfully. "Say you're talking to him. Everything's fine. Well, as fine as talking to _Batman _can be. Then you say something, or do something… and he just stares at you. Doesn't say anything. Just… stares."

The title screen came up, and they flicked through the character and weapon select screens like second nature.

"Okay," Dick said, nodding. "That's one of a few possible things. One, whatever you said or did offended him. A lot. Did you say anything like… 'I like guns'?"

"No. Oh, wait," the speedster paused and looked up in thought. "Nope. No, I'm pretty sure I didn't."

"Good. If it's not that... you might have confused him."

With a quick jab of his thumb, Wally paused the game. "Whoa, hold up. Batman… _confused_?"

"Yeah. Did you do or say anything weird or outlandish?"

"Well, uh… I may have told him to make his ears less pointy."

It took a few seconds to register the answer, and another few to come up with a response.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Yeah. I was stood right behind him while he was sat down, and he suddenly got up and his ears were all like-" he poked two fingers towards his eyes "-in my face, so I told him he should make them less pointy. Or smaller."

Dick laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

"Oh, man," he gasped. "You have no idea how much I would have loved to see that."

Wally smirked. "Supes thought it was pretty funny too. Wonder Woman even agreed with me and started poking them."

That got Dick to stop. "Hey… Wonder Woman and Bruce… are they…?" A suggestive eyebrow rose.

"I don't think so. Maybe. Actually…" he said, his voice that of someone realising something for the first time, "they do seem pretty…" He wove a dismissive hand. "Nah. Although I missed the whole 'Hawkgirl and GL' thing, too, so, uh…" Wally stared into his control pad. "…well, I missed it."

That same silence filled the cave.

And then the cell phone on top of the control panel rang.

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(A/N: Thanks for all the feedback, folks! Much appreciated. But I'm a greedy writer, so more reviews, please!)


	8. Acquaintances

Disclaimer: I don't own _Justice League Unlimited._

(Perhaps the BIGGEST thank you to Hhgbh for beta work.)

_**New Shoes**_

_**Chapter Seven: Acquaintances**_

The dock was empty, at least as far as Wally could see. All that was out of place was Nightwing, but anyone would be hard pressed to see him in the shadows.

Wally had been a little annoyed that Dick had insisted he be the one to go down and ambush whoever came to meet them. But eventually he had let it go, half because Dick had a point about knowing Gotham criminals better, but also because he just didn't want to upset the delicate peace they had going at the moment.

The phone call hadn't been very informative, but at least they had found out where to meet.

Dock fifteen. They had both felt a little annoyed that they had ignored a lead that had practically slapped them in the face. Robin had been a little more annoyed, though. Dick and Wally had told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn't coming, and that his job was to continue trying to contact Batman.

Wally didn't know young teenagers knew such language.

A door on the warehouse by the dock opened. Flash had a hard time making it out, and scooped up the infrared binoculars that Dick had left behind for him to use. He frowned. The guy looked like a skeleton… an oddly familiar skeleton.

The frown deepening, Wally lowered the binoculars up and down to check. Without the infrared, he looked like just another thug. Trench coat, fedora, the works. But under the infrared…

Recognition sank in. Wally _had _seen that skeleton before.

Because it wasn't a skeleton.

The man flickered, and Dick hesitated in his hiding place behind some crates.

The image of the man soon disappeared altogether, leaving the Z-8 training robot charging at Dick's location.

Wally was about to shoot down there when Nightwing threw up his open palm in a 'stop' gesture. Nervously tapping his feet, the speedster complied, intently watching the proceedings.

Nightwing leapt out from behind the crates just as the Z-8 tore through them like paper. He landed behind the robot and threw a batarang. The robot swatted it away easily and leapt into the air with it's' fists brought above its horseshoe shaped head.

A quick back flip cleared Dick from the blow, and the Z-8's fists sank through the thick wood of the dock, wedging them tight. He quickly kicked the robot in the head, and Wally winced and shook his head.

As though nothing had hit it, the Z-8 lifted its' arms while still beneath the wooden floor, tearing it apart beneath him and tossing him away like a rag doll. He landed with a thud against the brick wall of the warehouse.

Wally was practically shaking now from where he stood on the next door warehouse roof. But he knew that Dick was right. Initiative was not the Z-8's strong point. The robot would most likely take Dick back to its owners for further instructions. And if its orders were to kill intruders… _then _Wally would step in.

Nightwing seemed pretty dazed from the impact. He got to his feet and threw a fist at the Z-8's head. It simply stepped aside, grabbing his arm and tossing him over its shoulder. With a noise that made Wally close his eyes in sympathy, Dick slammed into the ground.

Content that Nightwing was neutralised, the Z-8 looked around for any more intruders, and Wally ducked.

Satisfied, the Z-8 grabbed Dick by the leg and dragged him into the warehouse. A second later, Flash was through the door before it could close behind the robot. The place looked abandoned. A stack of crates stood in one corner, and a fire exit lay at the back. That was it.

The Z-8 walked to the fire exit, and, after a short wait, it opened to reveal an elevator. The robot stepped inside with its' captured prey, letting the doors close behind it. After waiting a few seconds, Wally managed to wedge his hand between the elevator doors by using his hand like a jackhammer, and looked into the elevator shaft. The elevator was going down. He waited until it stopped before running down the shaft and landing with nary a whisper on the roof.

Still unaware of anything amiss, the Z-8 walked through the opened elevator doors and into a reddish orange corridor.

_Looks fancy_. The door closed behind the robot, and Wally took that opportunity to open up a light fixture in the roof and land. He was about to force his way through the doors when he heard voices.

"What's this?" His voice sounded militaristic, dark. Probably nasty fighter.

"He's one of Batman's little family." Wally recognised that voice from the news. Rupert Thorne.

"Nightwing. We know who he is, Thorne. I was wondering why he's _here_. We wanted Batman."

"And you'll get him. The more of his children go missing, the more likely he is the hunt us down."

"No, the more of his children go missing, the more likely he is to call in the League. Your thugs might be able to handle this kind of trouble, but how well do you think they'll do against Superman or Green Lantern?"

"Well enough."

"Please. We wanted _Batman_. You said you could deliver. I'm beginning to think Penguin was right. Maybe we _are_ dealing with the wrong person."

Thorne scoffed. "You can't believe anything that freak tells you."

"At least he gets results. He knows Batman. Fought him. All you've ever done is make vague threats towards him from across your desk."

"Who do you think you are, Flagg?" the mob boss spat back, his voice dangerously low. "You think you can-"

"I'm your best chance of avoiding the chair, Mr Thorne. So I would advise you to _shut up_."

The military man, Flagg, suddenly changed his voice. "Kill him." He was probably talking to the robot.

Wally prepared himself to push through.

"Wait, wait. You're going to _kill_ him?"

"That's what I tend to mean when I say 'kill him', yes."

"What's wrong with you?! Do you have a death wish?"

Flagg spoke as though he were tired of hearing his own voice. "When Batman finds the dead body of his own protégé, his own sense of vengeance will prevent him from allowing any outside help, Justice League or otherwise. While we're at it, we might as well kill Batgirl too. Go and get her."

Wally smiled despite of himself. _She's alive!_

"_What? _Kill both of them? Are you insane?"

A loud noise of someone being backhanded filled the air.

"Shut up, Thorne."

"Oh, that's it," Thorne growled. "I don't care where you send me, I'm not dealing with this anymore. Kill them yourself!"

"You're not going anywhere, Thorne."

"Let go of me."

Silence.

"Fine." His voice changed again. "Kill Thorne."

"What? No… no, you can't…"

Okay, that was it.

Wally pushed against the elevator doors and started vibrating.

"What's that noise?" Thorne asked.

"Unstable resonance," Flagg shouted back over the din. "You idiot, there's _already _Justice League here! He brought the Flash with him!"

And then the doors exploded outward, taking the wall around them with it.

Dust surrounded them. Wally could only imagine how everybody else's ears were ringing; having done this quite a few times, he never seemed to feel the after-effects of his speed anymore.

The corridor in front of him had collapsed from the explosion. He looked left and right. The corridor on his left seemed to go on forever, while the one on his right led to another elevator, although where that on led, Wally had no clue.

A groan from the rubble ahead of him attracted his attention, and he dashed forward. A few seconds later, he dug Nightwing out of the rubble.

"You okay?"

With a grunt, Nightwing made an 'ok' gesture with his hand.

Wally grinned and looked up. A metal fist greeted him, hitting him in the chin and knocking him off his feet and into elevator he had just been inside.

The Z-8 charged at him.

A bola wrapped itself around the robot's spindly legs and it fell forward, flying through the air towards Flash. It landed with a crash against the right wall beside the elevator.

Limping slightly, Dick ran to Flash and pulled him out of the creaking elevator.

Wasting no time, the Z-8 snapped the bola cable with its claw like fingers and flipped to its feet.

It ran at Nightwing, throwing blow after blow at him at inhuman speed. Eventually one connected, tossing him down the corridor and skidding to a halt before the second elevator Wally had spied earlier.

The Z-8 powered on at him when Flash leapt up on to its back. Dick got to his feet and ran at the robot as it grabbed Wally by his shoulders and tossed him down the corridor at his companion.

The two heroes tumbled ungraciously down the corridor and bumped into the elevator doors.

"Some superhero you're turning out to be," Dick grumbled, getting to his feet.

"Well you're not doing any better!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's just the last time _I _fought a killer robot was _never!"_

The Z-8 continued on towards them.

Wally put a hand on Dick's shoulder. "Duck!"

The Z-8 threw both fists at them as they ducked, sending them through the thick metal of the elevator doors.

Flash sped down the corridor, turned, and charged at the Z-8 robot, its' arms still trapped in the doors. He slammed into it at super speed, tossing it into the elevator shaft. Unable to stop in time, the scarlet speedster continued on into the shaft when a hand grabbed his costume by the neck.

Nightwing pulled him back into the corridor, and they both watched the Z-8 robot tumble down helplessly.

"Those things can't fly, can they?"

A shrug was the speedsters breathless answer.

Dick reached into his belt and dropped an explosive batarang down the shaft.

"We might want to run now."

They both ran around the corner into the collapsed corridor and felt the heat of the explosion wash by them.

"Okay," Dick breathed, "there were two of them. Thorne and some other guy I couldn't-"

"His name's Flagg," Wally elaborated. In response to the stare he got, he shrugged. "I was listening. Batgirl's here. She's alive."

The ex-Robin only allowed himself a brief moment of joy before continuing on. "Okay. You super speed around this place, find her, and get her someplace safe. I'll go after Thorne and Flagg." He pushed himself off the wall and was about to set off down the corridor when a red gloved hand landed on his shoulder.

"Dude, I'm not gonna leave you here."

"I know. After you've dropped off Batgirl you're coming straight back."

"…oh. Okay. See you later then."

"Yeah."

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"The Flash? The Flash?! I don't believe it. You said that Batman wouldn't-"

"It doesn't matter Thorne," Flagg said dismissively. "Our best bet now is to cut our losses and leave. At least, that's my best bet. I don't care what you do."

Thorne didn't seem to hear him. "But what about Flash and Batman's little cousin? What are you going to do if-"

"It's covered, Thorne."

He hit a button with his fist, and a door behind him opened. The hulking form that stepped through made Thorne step back.

"…alive…?"

A smirk was the only response.

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Nightwing cautiously leapt out of the elevator shaft. He was in the warehouse again. The other elevator just led to a hidden entrance in the wall of the warehouse. Big whoop.

He was about to proceed back inside when the elevator doors closed. The elevator descended, leaving Nightwing topside. With a frown, he moved to the open elevator shaft the Z-8 robot had used earlier.

Then the other elevator started moving up again. He looked back to the doors.

_Must be Wally with Barbara_.

The doors opened.

And Bane stepped out.

"Hello, little one. It has been some time, no?"

Nightwing adopted a fighting stance.

"No reply? When last we met, you were all mouth. It is a refreshing change."

Dick hid his frown beneath his mask.

"You wonder how I recognise you." He smirked. "I never forget a face, little bird."

Bane began stalking forward.

With a quick movement of his hand, Dick lanced a batarang through the air. Bane swatted it aside.

"Still with your toys. Father and son, so alike."

He concentrated on his breathing. The last time they had fought, Dick had only been able to give him the run-around. When he was Robin, any kind of physical attack against Bane would have been laughable.

Even now, he had his doubts.

With a grunt, he threw himself into the air, and with a loud 'ha' he kicked Bane in the head. Without a noise, he landed again.

Bane stumbled back, but soon straightened up again.

"Very good."

With a speed belying his size, Bane swiped his left arm out, catching Dick in the ribs and knocking him across the room and towards the metal loading door. The noise echoed loudly through the warehouse.

Dick tried to breath, and felt a stabbing pain in his chest. Broken ribs, and they'd barely started.

He forced himself to his feet.

Bane stalked on, his smirk intensifying.

"You are not Batman. But you will do."

A crate smashed against his head, and he whirled around.

"What?"

Flash stood next to the stack of crates in the corner of the warehouse. He whistled, impressed.

"Oh, wow. And I thought your costume was ugly from the back."

Bane cocked his head. "Who is _this?"_

"Flash. Fastest Man Alive. And you are? No, wait, let me guess. The leather, the spikes, the mask… Fetish Man, right? I mean come on, that _has _to be just some theme you came up with, because, if not… you've got some serious issues with your mother."

The villain looked at Nightwing over his shoulder. "I see now where your mouth has gone."

"Hey! Now come on, we're talking smack of here! You can't just up and ignore me at the tip of a hat! Not that you're wearing a hat, but I'm sure you've got a tight leather one somewhere!"

Bane cracked his knuckles. "Enough, little one."

"'Little one'?" Flash said, using Bane's accent. "How much of a walking Latino stereotype are you, seriously? It's ridiculous."

"I said enough."

"Okay, okay. Let's get the messy stuff over with."

Becoming a red blur, Flash ran at the crates, tossing them at Bane with such speed it was practically a whirlwind.

Bane's growls of frustration grew into roars of anger as he failed again and again to stop the crates from hitting him.

Carefully, Dick pulled out a batarang and took aim at the tube that would pump Venom into Bane.

After a few seconds of preparation, he let it fly. It easily sliced through the red tube, and Bane's rage turned towards him. A crate hit him in the back of his legs and he fell to the ground.

"Ha! You fell on your ass! That shouldn't have been as funny as it was," Flash said, smiling.

Bane hauled himself to his feet. Then he laughed.

"You think you have beaten me?"

Nightwing and Flash exchanged a wary look. Wally shrugged. "Well… yeah."

Bane's smirk intensified, and he reached into a pouch on his belt.

"Oh, you get your hands away from that area, you dirty man!" Flash yelled.

The hulking villain pulled out two white squares.

"Venom patches," he said, slapping them on his arms and groaning with the strain as his body grew.

Dick sighed. "Oh. Good."

Wally checked behind him. No more crates. "Oh. Good."

The two heroes exchanged a look, and in an instant, Flash was beside Dick.

"Okay, so… you got a plan?"

He nodded. "Can you do that thing where you suck the air away from him?"

"Uh… yeah."

"Because those things increase his heart rate. If he's got more in his belt-"

"I'm not going near his belt, are you crazy?"

Dick gave him a Bat-glare, and Flash put his hands up in surrender. "Okay, I get it, I'll do it."

"Just slap as many of those on him as you can, and then suck his air away."

"In here?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Well… the air pressure change from me doing a whirlwind in here could kinda make the building… explode."

"…and?"

Wally shrugged. "Nothing. Just thought you'd like to know."

Dick stared at him. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

The speedster responded with a grin. "You mean you're not?"

Bane stepped forward. "Have you finished your discussion? Or do you still need more time?"

In reply, Dick threw a batarang at the pouch on his belt, slicing it off and leaving a mess of white patches on the floor.

A red blur later, and they were gone. Bane looked around in confusion as the red blur circled him, slapping white patches on every bit of bare flesh Flash could find.

Bane grunted in pain and fell to his knees. "Stop it…"

Flash kept on going.

"Stop it!" Bane struck out and fluked a clothesline to Flash's ankle, sending him careening into a wall across the warehouse.

In an instant, Dick had throwing stars wedged between his fingers, and he tossed them across the room.

Most made insignificant cuts on the arms as thick as tree trunks, but one managed a glancing slice against Bane's left eye. He screamed in pain and clasped his hand over the bleeding iris.

Dick reached into his belt again. Only three more explosive batarangs. He wasn't sure how many would be enough to knock Bane unconscious.

He was about to chance it when a red blur reappeared around Bane. Dick relaxed and put the batarangs away.

Flash's whirlwind began to whine, and Bane grasped at his throat with his other hand, somehow trying to make himself breath again. The villain left the ground, getting tossed around by the maelstrom.

And then the roof exploded, taking Bane with it and tossing him to wind.

Dick winced at the noise.

"You can stop now!"

Flash came to a halt in front of him, and the wind the died down. "Say what?"

"You can stop now."

"I know. I was just messing with your hair," Wally said, grinning as he offered Dick his hand.

With a scowl, Dick accepted it, and Flash super-sped him to the next warehouse over, where Barbara lay, her costume in tatters. Without hesitation, he knelt down beside her, cradling his head in her hand. He looked back to the speedster.

Wally just had an unreadable smile.

"Barbara?" Dick removed his mask. "Barbara, can you hear me?"

She stirred with a moan, and her eyes fluttered open. "Dick? What's…?"

"It's okay. I'm-"

Then the warehouse beside them exploded.

Wally must have felt it coming, because he threw himself on them while shouting 'down'.

After the heat wave washed over them, they waited for a few moments before getting to their feet. Charred brick and wood lay around them.

"Well," Wally said, hands on hips as he looked down at the destroyed mess. "_That _was rude."

He looked back to Dick and Barbara, smiling.

"How does going home strike you folks?"

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(A/N: Final chapter next, folks! It's been a fun little jaunt, but the fat lady's getting ready for her solo act.

Also, off topic, in the comics world: Wally's coming back as the Flash! Not that I didn't like Bart as the Flash, and it's not confirmed in so many words, but… I like Wally so very much. :)

Reviews much appreciated!)


	9. Resolutions

Disclaimer: I don't own _Justice League Unlimited._

(A/N: Thanks to Hhgbh for beta work)

_**New Shoes**_

_**Chapter Eight: Resolutions**_

Batman wasn't happy. Not that he was ever particularly happy, but right now he was _very _not happy. He had been waiting for them as they arrived in the Batcave, and had stood by patiently while they took care of Barbara before soundly ripping them a new one.

Well, 'ripping' was perhaps a poor choice of words. That would imply yelling. The contents of the speech _could _have been yelled, but Wally was so much more likely to pee his pants when Bats was using his 'warning growl' voice.

At least, he _would _be more likely to pee his pants if he didn't think it funny when Batman tried to be all intimidating and stuff. When Wally had commented that he was cute when he was angry, the Dark Knight had just frozen solid for a few seconds before stalking off to the med room where Barbara was recovering.

Alfred had simply been happy to have Barbara back, and, after tending to her wounds (of which there were surprisingly little; it was just a matter of letting the drugs leave her system), treated Wally, Dick and Tim to one of his patented late night kitchen counter feasts. Before long, Tim was trying to hide his yawns, and Bruce came up to tell him to go to bed.

While Wally still snacked on the plethora of food in front of him and Dick idly sipped on a coke, Bruce sat himself opposite them at the kitchen counter.

"The drugs should be gone from Barbara's system within a day."

Dick nodded. "Good."

"Yeah," Wally said between chews of a chicken leg, "good."

The two Gotham Knights went on as though the speedster hadn't spoken.

"So. Explain."

He took a breath. "Okay," he sighed. "I-"

A half eaten chicken leg stuck itself into the air. "Um," Wally said, his mouth full, "I'd just like to say that this wasn't my fault. At all." He swallowed the chicken. "That said, please continue."

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Ollie knelt down beside the Question, trying to spot whatever it was that had piqued the faceless detective's attention.

Question rubbed some dust between his gloved thumb and forefinger. "Hm."

"Good 'hm', or bad 'hm'?"

He ignored the archer, pushing himself to his feet and wandering further around the wreckage.

With a mumbled curse, Ollie turned to look up at Supergirl, who was floating above them, staring down at the wreckage intently.

"Anything?"

She shrugged and floated back down to the ground. "Hard to tell. This whole place has lead shielding."

"Just like at Neuvogen," Question said contemplatively, his back to them.

"You think this is linked?"

Ollie snorted. "Kid, think about who you're talking to."

The detective turned to face them. "Flash reported that he fought a Z-8 combat trainer, just like the one you encountered outside of STAR Labs," he said, nodding to Kara. "The facility self destructed shortly after their escape, much like Neuvogen. These events are linked, and I'm obviously not the only one who thinks so."

"And what makes you say that?"

He cocked his head to the side. "Why do you think the Martian assigned _us _to look into this?"

Ollie suddenly felt a little uncomfortable.

Kara hugged herself and looked up at him. "Can I just go visit Batgirl now?"

He smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. "Sure, kid. We'll finish up here." She made to leave when Ollie squeezed her shoulder. "Hey. Don't worry yourself sick about this, okay? We'll figure it out."

She smiled weakly and flew off.

Ollie shook his head and tried to exchange a glance with Question. The detective was already knee deep in rubble, pulling something black and charred from under some planks of wood.

Green Arrow sighed and got to it.

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Barbara tried to read past the second sentence of the magazine that Kara had brought her, but it didn't seem to work too well. _This _was why she needed to join the Justice League. They dealt with robots all the time. If she had been given the proper training, she would have been able to take it. Maybe even trace it back to the source and take down the operation herself.

She sighed. Or maybe she was just freaked because she was taken out of play so easily. Hopefully she'd be able to stick to gangsters and psychotic freaks dressed like clowns for a awhile before any robots or monsters came her way again.

The doors to the Batcave med bay slid open silently, and Wally stepped through in his Flash costume, the cowl pulled back. She smiled. He really looked adorable with his hair all ruffled like that.

"What?" he said amusedly as he sat at the foot of her bed.

She lay down the magazine. "Your hair's all messed up. Looks cute."

"I aim to please."

"Also, that supremely worried look you have makes it even more irresistible."

"Yeah, well…" he shrugged. "That's just because I _am _kinda worried."

"About what?"

He blew out deep breath. "About how you're gonna take this."

The smile dropped from her face, replaced by resignation. "Okay," she sighed, lying back in her bed, "lay it on me."

"Well, uh, there's a lot of stuff… going through, uh… here, and I kinda feel like I've dropped myself in the middle of something that I really honestly truly don't belong in."

"You mean me and Dick?"

He took a breath to say something else, but settled for a nod.

"I see."

"Hey, it's not that I think you're in love or anything… though that wouldn't surprise me. You guys have just got some history that stops you guys from… doing anything else. If you know what I mean."

"Not really."

"I just think you've gotta work that stuff out before you start-"

"Well maybe this _was _my way of working this out, Wally. Did you think of that?"

He smiled. "Do I _seem_ like the kind of person who would think of that?"

She laughed lightly. "No, I guess not. Goof."

"Hey, just be glad we never consummated it. Now _that _would have made this awkward."

She shifted uncomfortably in her bed. "Yeah."

"Sorry, does talking about this stuff make you feel, uh, weird?"

She shrugged. "Not really. It's just that, well… I was kinda…" she trailed off.

"Oh, no, no, I'm in now. What?" he said, smirking.

"On our next date… I was gonna… _suggest… _it."

"…oh. Well, that, uh… that doesn't make me regret my decision at all. Nope. No-sir-ee-bob."

He left the room, going through as many different ways of saying 'not at all' as he could as he went.

Barbara grinned and got back to her reading. As she tried to get past that second sentence, she stopped, and her contented smile faltered.

She'd miss going out with Wally.

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Sometimes she missed her pre-Cadmus days. Everything was so much simpler when you didn't have to pretend that everything you did didn't exist.

The Justice League was already snooping around the wreckage of the Gotham facility, and now Batman would be extremely wary of any movements to make a new one. So, for now, Cadmus was out of Gotham.

Not that there was anything of much worth there, anyway. Just Batman. Only Batman. They had watched him for some time, simply content to keep tabs on him. But slowly, the Dark Knight had started to become suspicious. He noticed things. The car parked outside the drug bust. That un-named man in a suit and tie at the hostage situation.

Waller doubted he had anything concrete, but he was suspicious. And when Batman got suspicious, things started to happen. She would have been impressed if she weren't so annoyed.

And so, Colonel Flagg had come to her with a plan to capture the Batman. Perhaps the League's most powerful player, theirs.

As she had expected, things hadn't gone well. As she expected, Flagg offered no excuses. He didn't blame it on Thorne, even though she was fairly sure that any errors were his fault. Flagg didn't make errors. That was why Eiling had brought him in. And why Flagg's father had been so proud of him before his death.

She picked up the phone, dialled a number.

"Professor Hamilton. Status report on the Ultimen."

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Dick sipped his drink through a straw as he flicked through the channels. A week later and his chin was _still _bruised. Then again, he _was _punched by a robot. He smiled. In a way, that made him feel better.

A knock at the door distracted him from the TV, and he got to his feet and went over.

Wally West stood in the doorway, a pizza in one hand and a six pack in the other.

"Busy?" he grinned.

"Not for pizza and beer. You can go, though."

An hour or so later (it was hard to tell with the beer), the two were sat in front of Dick's TV, relentlessly pounding on their controllers in an effort to survive the army of zombies that assaulted them.

"Oh, nice shot," Wally said.

"Thanks."

Neither took their eyes off the screen until the next cut-scene sequence started. While the stunningly handsome heroes talked to frightened office workers in short skirts, Wally rotated his wrists.

"So," he said, pausing to take a sip of his beer, "Me and Barbara broke up."

Dick paused with a slice of pizza perilously close to his mouth. "You… did?"

"Yeah. It was kinda feeling awkward, y'know?"

"…no… I don't."

"Well… you and her… you've got some… issues you've gotta work out."

"No we don't."

The speedster sighed. "Okay, no you don't."

"Don't just dismiss it like that."

"But you just said-"

"Maybe we _do _have issues to work out; you don't know. Don't just _assume _that just because I _say _there are no issues that there in fact _are _no issues. That's just rude."

A grin broke out on Wally's face. "Do you drink often, Dick?"

"What? 'Course I do."

"Thought so."

"Are you saying I'm drunk?"

"No."

"Good. Because I am."

"…right."

"And what the hell is up with Japanese people and schoolgirls?"

That one passed Wally by. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Japanese people. They made this, right?" he said, gesturing dismissively to the TV screen.

"I… guess."

"And there are school girls in peril in this, right?"

"Yeah…"

"So what's up with that?"

Wally shook his head and shrugged. "Well… schoolgirls are vulnerable. They need protecting… from zombies."

"And that's another thing. What the hell's up with Japanese people and zombies?"

"There's… nothing up with Japanese people and zombies. That's just… zombies are just… universal."

This seemed to satisfy Dick, who nodded far too much. His gaze settled on Wally's feet.

"Those are some nice shoes, man."

"What? The Converses? Yeah," he said, smirking, "they're pretty good."

"_Pretty _good?! I'd say they're the best damn shoes I've ever seen. _And _they're red. That's just cool."

"Thank you!" he said, gesturing angrily. "GL always says they're too 'loud', whatever the hell that means."

"Loud? How can a shoe be loud?"

"I know, it's stupid, huh?"

"I tell you what…"

"What?"

"I'd buy red shoes… because they're awesome."

"Thank you. Even though you're very drunk right now so your opinion doesn't mean much, that still means a lot to _me _personally."

"Well, y'know… the truth comes out when people are drunk."

"Just how much did you drink?"

"I…" he looked around cluelessly. "Don't know. I may have been drinking wine before you arrived."

"Wine? Ooo, check you out, Mr Fancy."

"Shut up. Wine's good."

"Okay, I guess…"

"What? It is!"

"I said okay!"

"Are you mocking me?!"

"No."

"Good! Because… mocking is bad."

"Like not telling Barbara how you feel?"

Dick nodded mutely. "Yeah. I mean, I know I really should, but… something always stops me. One time I even picked up the phone, dialled the number, and she said hello… and then I put the phone down."

"Ah, the old stalker call. It can only go downhill from there, dude."

"Yeah I know, because the next thing that happened was that she got kidnapped by a robot and Bane and this Flash guy was there with… some… Flagg or something."

"Yeah, that was me. Flash, that is."

Wally wasn't used to this. He was used to being the stupid one in the room. It was a new experience.

Fun, too.

"Y'know, the phone's right over there. You could call Barbara now."

Dick swung his head around to look at the phone in its cradle on the sofa-side table. He swung his head back to look at Wally.

"Y'know what? You're right. You're so right. I should call her, and make it _all better._"

With all the grace of a limping dog, Dick crawled over the pizza and beer beside him and over the phone. After squinting at the numbers on the handset, he pressed down each button with such force Wally was afraid he would break the phone before he made the call.

Dick put his finger to his lips. "Sssh! It's ringing!"

Wally heard someone pick up, and Dick smiled.

"Hey, Alfred! It's Dick. Can I _please _talk to Barbara?"

Silence.

"Okay… okay… okay…"

"What's going on?"

"He's getting her," Dick whispered, pantomime style. "Oh! That's her. Hey, Barbara… this is Dick. I'm just calling to say…" He blinked a few times. "Hang on a second. Wally, what am I calling to say?"

Wally winced when he saw that Dick didn't bother to move the phone away from his mouth when he spoke to him. "About your feelings about her."

"Oh. Yeah. 'Course. Barbara, I'm calling about my feelings for you."

More silence as Dick nodded at something Barbara was saying.

"What feelings?" he asked Wally.

"I don't know, they're your feelings."

"I don't know, they're your feelings," he repeated, using the same defensive tone.

"No, don't," Wally groaned. "Never mind. Hang up the phone."

"But I'm-"

"Dick. Trust me. Say goodbye to Barbara. And hang up the phone."

"Bye Babs," he said quickly before tossing the phone over his shoulder. With a brief shrug he crawled over the debris of food and alcohol in front of him and back to his controller.

"You're a fun drunk," Wally said.

"Good. I'd rather be that than a fun drunk."

He collapsed back and fell asleep.

"Man… I wish I could get drunk."

For a brief moment, he pictured what it would be like for him to be drunk and super speeding around the world with the same style and grace that Dick had had crawling over the floor.

"…maybe not."

After tucking Dick up in the most un-homoerotic way he could manage, Wally set to clearing up the room into at least some semblance of order. He was halfway through when he heard a groan come from Dick's general location on the sofa.

"Thanks, man…"

"Huh?" Wally said, struggling to crumple the pizza box so it would fit in the trash can.

"I was just sayin'… thanks, y'know… it's cool to have a superhero… buddy, I guess…"

Wally smiled. "Yeah… cool." He finally managed to get the box inside, and ungraciously let the lid flap down. "Anyway, I've gotta go. But we'll do this again, okay?"

"Good, good…"

"And maybe you won't drink as much."

"I _don't, _you _mnngmsssffrrr_…"

The rest of the sentence was lost to the pillow that Dick had buried his face in. Wally worried that he might suffocate himself like that, so he rolled Dick upwards before he left.

The next day, both Dick and Wally got a message on their answer machines.

On Dick's, a very confused and angry message from Barbara.

On Wally's, death threat from Dick.

Wally smiled upon receiving the message. It was nice to have friends again.

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(A/N: Why do so many of my stories involve sitting around drinking?

Anyway, R&R time, folks!)


	10. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own _Justice League Unlimited._

_**New Shoes**_

_**Epilogue**_

Batman easily towered over the diminutive Penguin, who didn't budge an inch.

"I won't ask again, Penguin. Where were the drugs going?"

"I'm afraid I have little clue to what drugs you are referring. Admittedly, I would be highly unlikely to share such information with you even if I did know… but this time, I am telling the truth."

Batman held his stare for the longest time. Penguin's gaze didn't falter.

Slowly, the Dark Knight stalked away and out of the Penguin's office.

"Sorry, _Bats_," he said, smiling.

Batman froze in the doorway for only an instant before continuing on his way.

That was the only time the Penguin would ever hear Batman mutter a curse against another human being under his breath.

And for that, he was eternally grateful to the Flash.

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(A/N: And that's all, folks! It's been a fun ride, but now it's that time again.

I'd like to thank the following for their reviews (I apologise for not leaving individual comments as I usually do, but I've been very busy recently – not much of an excuse, but there it is):

Streak13

Red Tigress

Hhgbh

Thepennameboo

Neomage

Mist/s

Riana1

Korovan

Balletangel19

TheWatcherandReader

Digi-gal-rox

WarrenAngel

LarSinger

Scarlet Flashernel

Protector of Canon2

GothamGirl

Whigmus Lister

Luc Star

Proponent of EVO

Harlequin Girl

Thapagan

Ing101

Flash fan

Jarnan

ShadowFax999

MariaShadow

And BIG thank you to Hhgbh for his beta work. One in a million, buddy.

Catch you guys and gals later!)


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